An Irish precursor of Dante; a study on the Vision of heaven and hell, ascribed to the eighth-century Irish saint, Adamnán

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No. 1 8
AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

%^t <Bctmm I.ibtac^.

Bat/buckran. fftl pri^a.

I. GEORGIAN FOLK- TALES. By M, Wabdbop. Oal of print.

II., r[L, V. THE LEGEND OF PERSEUS. A Slndr of Tradition

anilSurT.CuiiimiuiilMyih. B^E. S. Haitlaiid. jtoIs. O-mlc/fri^l.

IV.. VI, THE VOYAGE OF BRAN. SON OF FEBAL. TO THE

LAND OP THE LIVING. Aaold Iiub Saga, now £nt oliucl, '

Toaalatiin, Nous, and Gioaarf by Ku»o Metib. With iui Eaty

wfoa Af Ituh Vuun of the Happy OihcrworU, and ihe Celtic doci '

eTRibiitli, brALPinNDTT. i voli. jfi, u.

Dt. I. THE HAPPV OTHKRWORLD, 1895. ivSi, 531 pp.

01. n. THE CELTIC DOCTRINE OF REBIRTH. 1897. >ii,3S"

Vn. THE LEGEND OF SIR GAWAIN. Studies apon its Original

3tgp« and SignifioMi. By JsssiaL. Westok. i6«. xvi,iijpfi.
VIIL THE CUCHULLIN SAGA IN IRISH LITERATURE. By

IX.. X- THE PRE- AND PR OTO- HISTORIC FINNS. By the Hon.

XI. THE HOME OF THE EDDIC POEMS. By SOPHUS BUGGB.

XII. THE LEGEND OF SIR LANCELOT DU LAC. Slndies upon
jet Oii^. DrrelopAcat, and Po&idoQ La Ihc Arthunan RomuilLC Cycle
By JiuikL. Weston. 1901. xi'mji pp. 71- id.

XUI. THE WIFE OF BATH'S TALE, By G. F. MArNADlEB. Out

tjprini.
XiV. 30HRAB AND RUSTEM. The Epic Theme ot a Combat
n Faihcr and San. A Siady of >li Gene^ Uw in LiteratoH
d Pi^lai Tiadilion. By Mubrav A. PoTTUi, AM. 1901. tii,

CURSOR OF DANTE. By C. S. BOSWBIX.

An Irish Precursor

of Dante

A Study on the Vision of
Heaven and Hell ascribed
to the Eighth-century Irish
Saint Adamndn, with Trans-
lation of the Irish Text

By

•^'^C. S. Boswell

London

Published by David Nutt

at the Sign of the Phoenix

Long Acre

J908, ,,,_

* J

* A

^.^.i" .. , A.

701426

• - • • •

* - • fc • • • *

»H anCAT •MITAIM*

TO

H. M. H. B.

viii AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

S ADAMHi(lN

. Exordium — 2. Enumeration of previous revelations of the
Otherworld — 3. Adamnin's ttanslalion from Ihe body^
4-6. The Land of Siints— 7-8. The Throne of the Deity
— 9. The Divine Presence enthroned, and 10. Pictured
as a mystic omnipresent face — tl. The Celestial City, its
seven walls and its floor; iz. Its inhabitants; 13. Its design,
as of a Christian Church — 14. Limbo of the excluded —
15-1S. The Soul's progress through the seven Heavens;
15. Their doors and porters ; the first Heaven ; 16. The
second Heaven, Purgatorial pains ; 17. The third and fourth
Heavens ; 18. The fifth and sixth Heavens— 19. The Judg-
ment of the Soul— ID. The fate of the damned— 21. Hetl,
a dery glen— 22-33. "^^^ Bridge of Doom— 24. The half
good, half wicked — z$-2g. Punishments of the wicked
described ; classification of crimes and punishments — 27.
The charitable but carnal^zg. Fiery wai! reserved until
after the Last Judgment — 30. Description of Hell; impa-
tience of the damned for Judgment ; respite on Sundays —
31. Adamnan returns to Heaven ; is restored to the Ixidy,
and bidden report what he has seen — 32. This the subject
of his subsequent preaching ; consonant with the doctrine
of the Apostles and Saints — 33. Enoch, Elias, and the Bird-
flocks of Paradise — 34. Peroration ; L'Envoy— 35. Rhap-
sodical description of Heaven 28-47

PART II

Sources of the mediaeval legend of the Vision of the Otherworld
—The Classical Tradition— The Otherworld in the Greek
poets — Influence of the Mysteries— The effect of initiation
on the future life — Ethical teaching of the Mysteries —
Plato's yin'oH of Er — Plato's opinion of the Mysteries-
Description of Elysium in the Axiacius — The Fregs of
Aristophanes ; visit to Hades by Dionysos ; light thrown

CONTENTS

on the Greek views of the Mysteries of the next woil<i—
PlntuchS yiiim 0/ TAtspaus—Fiataich'i eschatolc^—
Rebirth theory in PUto >nd Plutucb-— The Vbiim in Latin
literaluie— The SgniHium ScifiUnis—VagiVa description
of the Olheiworld — Literary character of his tiealment —
Composite nature of his eschatoli^y— His authority in the
Middle Ages i

Dante's attitude towards Virgil — His scheme ia the Cemmcdia
— Kon-classical elements thereby necessitated— Process of
accretion in the later Jewish Church —The Chaldean
eschatolt^— Visits to Hades of tshtSr and Gisdubar — The
Chaldlan Elysium — Arali, the Chaldican Haiics — Aristo-
cratic conception of Elysium— The eflecl of the Median
conquest — The A»estan eschalology — The soul after death
—The Chinval Bridge— Judgment— The Avestan Elysium
—The Tree of Life and ihc World -Sea— The bird Karshipta
— the Vara of Yima^Yimaand the Indian Yam a— Allegoric
tendencies of the Avesta — Its idoption of earlier animism
— The question of its influence on Judaism — Darmesteter
00 Neo-Platonic elements in the Avesta- Older elements
in the Avestan theory of the Otherworld ; Achxmcnian,
Indian and Chaldsean — The Amesha Spentas and the
Philonic emanations — Their probable connection with the
Chaldaan Spirits of Earth — ChaldLean and Persian influ-
ences upon Jewish speculation — Oriental conceptions
present in the Vision of Adamnin : the seven Heavens,
the mystical Bird, the Tree of Life, the World-Sea, the
Bridge — ^Rebirth theory absent from the Avestan religion
^Egypt and Neo-Judaism— The Jewish colony in Alex-
andria ; its culture mainly Hellenic ; interchange of ideas
with the ^yptians — Egyptian cults in the Hellenic world
— Egyptian eschatology ; Judgment, the 'Eater of the
Dead,' Elysium — Purgatoiial and kindred theories of the
Rabbis and early Christians — Special treatment of half

X AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

good, half wicked souls — Greek and Oiienlal inflnences
on the Olherworld conceptions of the Christian Church —
Rebirth rejected hjr the Jews, and by the ancient Egyptians 67-94

3. THE ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION

' The Vision of the Otherworld a favonrite subject in the Jewish
apocryphal scriptures — Tiie Baai of Enoch — Paiatlels to
Chiistiao Visions — Care for topographical details — Disser-
tations as in Dante — Purgatorial theory — Descriptions of
Hell and Heaven— The Celestial Mountain— Sheol— The
Tree of Life— Judgment— The Gospci of Nkodemus— The
Vision of Esdras in the Old Testament Apocrypha — Another
Vision 0/ Esdras \B the Christian apocryphal books — The
Vision of Tsaiah — Little information respecting the Other-
world in the canonical books of the New Testament —
Details in the Epistles of St. Jude and St. Peter and the
Revelation — Grsco-Roman speculations during the early
ages of the Church- The Sibylline books— The ' Harrow-
ing of Hell' legend — Spread of esch Biological writings —
The Shepherd of Htrmas^k-p, anticipation of Dante and
Beatrice — Its scope rather anagogical than esch Biological —
The Apocalypse of SL Peter— The Revelation of St. Paul
—Their influence apparent in the Fis A damndin— The
Transilus Maritu — Blending of Hebraic and Hellenic
conceptions of the Otherworld- Persistence of the moral
teaching in the Mysteries ; and of the popular belief in
Tartarus— The Vision legend little affected by Pagan cults
or Neo-Platonic speculation — The Vision legend in the
Western Church — Instances recorded by St. Aagasline and
St. Gregory- Minor importance of the legend in the West
until developed by the Irish Church - . 94-113

k

Relations of the Irish Church with Southern Gaul and (he East
^Irish Pilgrimages to Egypt— The Egyptian Boot of Adam
and Eve preserved in Ireland only — Resemblances between

CONTENTS xi

the Irish and Oriental monastic systems — Irish knowledge
of Greek writers and intercourse with the Greeks — The
ecclesiastical conception of the Other world influenced by
cognate ideas in Irish literature and mythology — Dignity
of the Irish literary profession ; its classifications — Cate-
gories of the Irish historical and romantic tales — Tolerance
of the Irish clergy — Survival of the Imram and Fis, and
their influence upon the literature of mediaeval Europe —
The Otherworld a favourite subject in Irish legend —
Elysian realms of the Irish Gods; of the Dagda and
Oengus Og, of Mider, of Mananndn Mac Lfr — Poetic
description in the Voyage of Bran — Tethra, king of the
dead — His messengers to summon mortals to him — The
story of Connla — The Orpheus myth in Ireland — The
Serglige Conckulatnd—iio Tartarus in the Irish mythology
— Malignant powers — Sinister aspects of the Otherworld —
The realm of Scathach— The Bridge of the Cliff^Whether
of Norse origin, or ecclesiastical, or native — Parallels in
the Avesta and among primitive peoples — The Adventures
of Nera — The legend in the Finn Cycle — Late survivals —
The legend in the Conn-Cormac Cycle — Conn's visits to
the Tlr Taimgire — Christian redactions of Pagan stories —
The adventures of Art in the Tir Taimgire, and the court-
ship of Delbchaem — The visit of Cormac to the Tir
Taimgire — The introduction of allegory — First rudimentary
ethical conceptions in connection with the Otherworld —
Whether original or due to clerical redactors — Interpola-
tions by the redactors — Increasing prominence of eschato-
logical ideas in the Christian Imrama — The chastity ideal
existing side by side with its opposite in the Tir Taimgire
— Cuchulainn and the children of Doel Dermait — The
enchanted castle and its Otherworld origin — The Voyage of
Maelduin^s Curack — Greek influences — Elysian islands —
Infemal elements — The * Miller of Hell' — Picture of
Elysium — Adaptation of the Phoenix legend to old Irish
m3rths — Bird souls — Island hermits — The cook of Torach
— The Voyage of the Curack of the Ui Corra — Eschatology

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

in the BscenLlanC — Influences of Nature — Purgatorial theory
iittToduced into the Imram — The fayagt ef Snidgus and
Mac JiV/a— Transition from Pagan to Christian concep-
tions of the Othetworld — VisioDS of the Otherwortd in
Ireland— Visions of St. Colm Cille— St. Fursn ; his Vision
—Vision of Laist^n- The Scil Ui Brdlha^The fourfold
division of human souls— The Dd Brin Flatha tftmi "3-174

Its structural and literary superiority to other Visions before
Dante — The general plan — Indications of composite author-
ship — Authorities followed by the writer of the Vision —
The guide to the Othervorld— The author's use of old Irish
imagery — His ecclesiastical treatment of the subject —
Pictorial grouping and imagery — Parallels to the Imrama
— The Cockayne idea and the ascetic idea — The state de-
scribed to continue to the Last Judgment only — Deferred
Judgment of certain spirits and their Limbo— The soul's
ptcgress through the seven Heavens — The ru^atotial
theory — Dante parallels — Judgment — The fate of the repro-
bate — Insistence on the spiritual side of their sulTetings—
The fuither description of Hell apparently interpolated —
The Bridge incident— Fourfold division of the souls— The
punishmeDts of the reprobate — Increasing minuteness of
these descriptions by successive Vision writers — Attempts
at classification — Dante parallels — Temporary punishment
of certain sinners — The region of the damned after the
Last Judgment — Characteristics of northern and southero
writers respectively- The four rivers of Hell — Adamnan's
message — Enoch and Elias with the Bird-flocks about
the Tree of Life— Rhapsodical description of Heaven 174-206

Irish influences upon Continental ^

— Enduring effect of

k.

St. Brendan's legend— The Veyagi ef Si. Brendan— Old

CONTENTS

^

Irish incidents preserved therein — The Puadise of Birds
and the rebel angels — Cessation of the Imram and coDtinD-
ancc of the Fis— The Kiiww of Tundair—Gteat derelop-
nient of Purgatorial incidents — The Bridge episode — Hell
described as the mouth of a dragon— Description of Hell—
The half righteous — Converse with persons whom Tundale
had known in life — King Cotmae — Paradise— The Tree of
Life and Biid-Hocks — Blending in thb vision of Irish and
ecclesiastical elcmenls^ lofloence of the result upon
European literature — Relations to the J-ii Adamtidm and
lo the St. Patrick's Purgatory l^end — Dante probably
acquainted with the Vision of Tnndalc — Compaiison be-
tween the Vision and the Commtdia — Prevalence of the
Vision legend on the Continent — Foieign Visions derived
from Irish sources— The Vision of Driklhelm—Sl. Patrick's
Purgalory— The Vision of Owen— Doubtful origin of the
legend of St. Patrick's Purgatory — lis popularity on the
Continent — Treatment by Continental writers — The Visieti
^/(/ferirr— Waning influence of the Irish school— Increased
nombei but diminished importance of the Olherwortd
stories — Lack of originality 206

Recapitulation — No theory propounded as lo Dante's indebted-
ness to the Irish school^ — His probable acquaintance with
the later Visions of that school — Probable nalure and
limitations of their influence — Tendency of each school to
drop Ihe more characteristic trails of its predecessors —
Dante's rejection of many conventional incidents — The
literary qualities of the Fis Adamndin — Irish lusceptibilily
to Ihe beauties of Natare and to music — Absence of dis-
sertations from the Fis Adamndi« — Interruption of the
Irish national literature — Modern renaissance . , 242-249

Indbx Z51

\

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Few, if any, of the great masterpieces of literature, even of
those which bear the most unmistakable imprint of an
original mind, are ' original ' in the vulgar sense of being
invented ' all out of the head ' of the author. Most
frequently they are the development and the sublimation
of forms and subjects already current ; for, as Dumas pire
truly said, it is mankind, and not the individual man, that
invents. The wagon of Thespis preceded the stage of
iEschylus, while Thespis himself had predecessors who did
not even adopt the wagon. The great dramatic schools
of all periods took the greater and better part of their
themes from the myth, history, or fiction current in their
day. So it has been with most other kinds of literature,
and to this rule the Commedia of Dante, though one of the
most truly original creations of the human mind, forms no
exception. The main subject of the poem, the visit of a
living man, in person or in vision, to the world of the dead,
and his report of what be had seen and heard there, belongs
to a class of world-myths than which few are more widely
distributed in place or time, and none have been more

\

3 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

fortunate in the place won for them by the masters of
literature. After occupying an important place in several
of the antique religions it afforded subjects to the genius of
Homer, Plato, and Virgil; it was then adopted into the
early Christian Church, and afterwards constituted one of
the favourite subjects in the popular literature of the Middle
Ages, until, finally, Dante exhausted the great potentialities
of the theme, and precluded all further developments.

The Commedia is like a mighty river formed by the
confluence of several great tributaries, each of which is fed
by innumerable springs and streamlets, which have their
rise in regions remote and most diverse from each other,
and are all tinged by the soil of the lands through which
they flow. It is with one of these tributary streams that the
following pages deal, and that not the least important among
them, for to it the Vision of the Otherwotld, as current in
the later Middle Ages, owed much both of its popularity
and its contents, not, indeed, by way of direct derivation or
suggestion — a view which several circumstances forbid us
to entcttain^but as the result of an influence which, in
an earher stage of culture, had determined the direction
which the Vision legend actually followed in its later
developments.

The subject would appear to have possessed a special
fascination for the Irish writers at the time when Ireland
was the chief intellectual centre of Western Europe, and
the constant flux and reflux of Irish teachers and foreign
students necessarily tended to spread abroad so much, at
any rate, of the compositions of the Irish schools as was in
harmony with the tastes and beliefs of Christendom at
large.

By far the most important of the Apocalyptic writings

INTRODUCTORY 3

which [voceeded from the Irish schools is the Vision which
bean the name of St. AdamndD, of which a translation is
given in the present volume. It is interesting to compare
it with the later and greater work, and to marlc the numerous
points of resemblance which may be discerned in works so
widely different. This and the like productions of a ruder,
bat not ignorant nor uncultured, age, deserve no less atten-
tion than that which we bestow upon the works of the
primitive schoob of art and letters, before Giotto and his
compeers had effected the release of painting from the
bonds of formalism, and had opened out the ways of Nature
and imagination, and before the immediate predecessors of
Dante had rendered possible his dolct stil nuoto.

At the same time it may be seen how the legend which
received its apotheosis in Dante's immortal verse came into
being upon the misty heights of primitive myth, and after
forming the theme of poets and philosophers in classical
antiquity, entered into the hteratuie and teaching of the
early Christian Church .; how the ecclesiastical legend, as it
had now become, was adopted into the Irish Church at the
time of its greatest activity, and there received the impress
of the national genius, and became blended with the
national traditions ; thence it returned again to become a
part of the general literature of Europe, and received yet
further elements from the newly popular romances of
chivalry, and still more from the revived classical tradition,
until the elixir of the great magician's genius finally trans-
muted the amalgam into gold to be a Krijita is dii.

To recognise these facts is not to disparage or limit the
originahty of Dante's genius ; rather his true originality is
thrown into higher relief by a comparison with all other
labourers in the same field who had gone before him.

i

4 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Nothing but the study of these labours will enable us to
give him his due place in European literature and thought,
while such a study will explain and justify certain features
in his treatment of the theme which may be repugnant
to modern ways of thinking, but were not only justified,
but necessitated, by the beliefs and traditions universally
accepted in his own day. Dante himself always loved to ac-
knowledge his indebtedness to his literary progenitors, alike
among the writers of antiquity and his own contemporaries
or immediate predecessors ; and it seems fitting to preserve
the memory of a school of writers to whom, although he
knew it not himself, are largely due the actual character and
scope of the work by which he achieved immortality.

z. The Seer>
By the close of the seventh century the Irish Church
had almost reached the period of its greatest prosperity
and of its greatest influence upon the culture of Western
Europe. The Three Orders of Saints had done their work,
and although in Ireland, as throughout the rest of Europe,
Christianity had not entirely prevailed over the heathenism
of the more sequestered populations — the pagani^yei,
through the length and breadth of the country, the National
Church was established in close conjunction with the
State, of which, indeed, it had come to form an integral
part; and wherever the Irish clergy prevailed, studies
flourished.

' For Tucthei paiticulara of the life of A^atnn^n, see Dr. Reeves's
intioduction to his Adantn^n's Life bJ St. Columba, Dublin, 1857
(Irish AlchKological Society) ; Dr. HeaJy's Irelaiuti AtuUut Sckeels
and Schalars; Canon John O'Hanlon's Lives aj the Iritk Saints,

THE SEER 5

The missionary zeal of the Irish clergy had made known
the Gospel to the courts of barbarian princes, and to the
still pagan inhabitants of North Britain and Germany, Gaul
and Burgundy, Switzerland, Styria, and Lombardy, and even
carried it to the Faroe Isles and Iceland. At home, what
sparks of antique learning yet lurked beneath the ashes to
which the fires of civilisation had smouldered down were
gathered into a focus in schools where crowds of students
from the surrounding nations found hospitality and instruc-
tion ; while abroad, the foundations of lona, Lindisfarne,
and Malmesbury, Luxeuil, St. Gall, and Bobbio, with
many more of lesser fame, stood out like citadels erected
to maintain a peaceful conquest. And from the schools
of Ireland were to issue the men who were destined,
during the next two centuries, not merely to leave their
mark upon the Church as theologians and founders of
monasteries, but, further, to play an important part in
moulding the new civilisation of the Frankish Empire, to
lay the foundations of modern philosophy, and to promote
the study of natural science and literature by lucubrations,
crude, indeed, as compared with the productions of more
favoured ages, but standing out conspicuous above the
level of their own time.^

^ Mr. Alfred Nutt has suggested that the above passage appears to
claim for the Irish scholars and clerics a monopoly of the educational
and missionary work of the age to the exclusion of the eminent
Anglo-Saxons who were labouring with success and distinction in the
same field. I had no intention to disparage either the original genius
nor the learning of Bede and Aldhelm, Caedmon and Cynewulf,
Winifred and Alcuin, nor their missionary and scholastic work, both
at home and in the Frankish Empire; only to point out that the
position acquired by the Irish scholars and clerics enabled them
speedily to disseminate through Western Europe the works of their

6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Meanwhile, though the Three Orders of the Irish Saints
had come to an end about the middle of the seventh
century, they were succeeded by many great Churchmen,
who combined with their ecclesiastical duties a lively
interest in secular politics, in which they were wont to
intervene, most commonly, no doubt, with beneficial effect,
though occasionally with results nothing less than disas-
trous.

One of the foremost, if not the very foremost, among the

compatriots. By recalling the name3 of a few of the most eminent
Irishmen who enjoyed a Continental fame during the Middle Ages,
we may perceive how wide was the area, and how long the duration,
of theii influence.

Clement was the chief of a group of Irish scholars who look a
leading part in the educational lefoims promoted by Charlemagne,
Alculn, Clement's great English rival at the Fraakish Court, had
been educated at Clonmacnois. Joannes Scotus Erigcna, in the reign
of Charles the Bald, founded the scholastic philosophy, und by his
translation of the pseudo-Areopagite, and his studies of the nco-
Platonists, bridged over the chasm between ancient and modern
thought. Dungal, in the lirst half of the ninth century, was the first
astronomer of his age ; at the mandate of Lothair, King of Lombardy,
be founded a school which afterwards developed into the University
of Pavia, with branches in several other cities, and laboured with
success at the task of civilising the Lombards. Add to these Djcuil,
B geographer of the same date, the most accurate topographer of the
early Middle Ages ; Firghil, or Virgilius, Archbishop of Salzburg,
who taught the rotundity of the earth and the existence of antipodes ;
Sedulius, the ninth.century grammarian ; St. Donatus, Bishop of
Fieiole (fl. e. 840), traveller, topographer, and Scripture commen-
tator ; Marianus Scotus, one of the leading chroniclers of the eleventh
century ; and many others, who laboured with distinction in France,
Italy, Germany, England, and Flanders, down to the thirteenth
century, when Frederick 11., Eoipiror, summoned Petrus Hibemicus
to the University of Naples, whtre he counted among his theolc^ical
pupils no less a personage than Thomas Aquinas.

THE SEER 7

Irish clerics of this period was St. Adamndn, Ihe reputed
seer of the Visioi] which bears his name. This great pre-
late is a striking figure both in the ecclesiastical and
secular history of his times ; but the information we pos-
sess concerning him, though not altogether scanty, is not
all of equal value. It consists partly of the evidences
furnished by his own writings and contemporary records,
partly of the further particulars which have been preserved
in the annals compiled from the tenth to the twelfth cen-
turies, though these, no doubt, are derived in great measure
from earlier records.

Adamnan was of high birth, as were many of the leading
Irish Churchmen, the constitution of the National Church
being thoroughly aristocratic, in accordance with the civil
society upon which it was moulded. His father was
Ronan, son of Tinne, a man of chiefly rank in the territory
of Sereth, or Tfr Aedha, now the barony of Tirhugh, in
south-west Donegal, and the descendant of Conall Gulban,
the founder of a famous house, various branches of which
ruled Tir Couaill from the fifth century until the fall of the
O'Donnells at the beginning of the seventeenth century.
Adamnan's mother, Ronat by name, was of the Cinel Enda,
a sept of West Meath.i The date of his birth is variously
stated, but he appears to have been born between the
years 624 and 627 at Drumhome, in Tfr Aedha.^ The
name Adamnan is a diminutive of Adam, but through

' There was also a T(r Enda, between L. Foyle ond L. Swilly.

' Tigemach gives the date as £24, which Dr. Reeves is inclined to
accept, qS. «V. Intraductian, xl-xli. Lanigan is in favour of 637,
which agrees with the reputed age of Adamnan, 77, at Ihe time of his
death. Possibly the latter date is coned, the difference being explic-
able by the different system of chronology adopted by Tigernach.

8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the tendency of Irish phonetics to elide the d and m in
certain positions, it came to be written sometimes in the
confusing forms Eunan and Onan, and has even been
travestied into Th eunan and Dennan.

Adamnan entered the great monastery of lona as a
novice, probably about the year 650, as Segine {ob. 652)
was then abbot. There he was distinguished for his
devotion and learning, and in the year 679, soon after the
death of Abbot Failbhe, was elected to succeed him, being
ninth in descent from St. Colm Cille, the founder, to whom
he was akin. Indeed, all Adamnan's predecessors, and
his successors for several generations, were members of
the same great family. In the government of his house
and of the ecclesiastical establishments in the neighbour-
ing islands, he displayed the qualities of an able adminis-
trator, as well as those of saint and scholar ; nor did he
confine his activities to matters ecclesiastical, but, like most
of the Irish saints, took an active part in public events.

About the year 684, King Ecgfrid of Northumbria made
a descent upon the Irish coast, between Magh Breg, the
plain north of the Liffey, and Belach Duinn, now Castle-
kieran, north-west of Kells, and carried away many captives.
In the following year he invaded the Picts of Scotland,
and was slain at Dun Nechlan. His successor, Aldfrid
{the son, according to some accounts, of an Irish mother),
had been driven into exile in early youth, and taking refuge
in Ireland was educated in the schools of that country,
to which he paid a grateful tribute in after-life. He had
sojourned for a while at Zona, and there became acquainted
with Adaranan, who now took advantage of this intimacy,
and came to Aldfrid's court to plead the cause of the cap-
He was successful in this, and had the happiness

THE SEER 9

3 redeem from slavery sixty of his countrymen, whom he
brought back with him on his return. This visit produced
resuhs of great importance to the Irish Church. During
his stay in Noithurobria, Adamnan contracted a close
intimacy with the Venerable Bede — who strongly censured
Ecgfrid's unprovoked, aggression {^Hist. Ecd. iv. i6)— upon
whom he made a strong and favourable impression, as
being vir bonus, ei sapiens, el scientia scripfurarum nobilis-
sime insiructus. Their frequent colloquies during this, and,
apparently, a second mission of Adamnan to Norlhumbria,
about two years later, turned upon the two main points
wherein the Irish usage differed from that of Rome : i.e.
the form of the tonsure, which, in Ireland, was made
crescent-wise across the head, and the time of keeping
Easter. In the latter respect, Ireland retained the older
computation, founded upon the Jewish method of cal-
culating the Passover, which had been adopted by Rome
during the disputes on the subject with the East and with
Alexandria, and was in force at the conversion of Ireland.
In 463 Pope Hilarius introduced an improved system
of calculation, which ultimately was generally adopted
throughout the West, though not without a struggle in
those many parts of the Continent where Irish influence
was powerful. As a matter of course, the reformed system
was brought into England by Augustine, and contributed
to widen the gulf between the English and British Churches,
The south of Ireland, or part of it, appears to have accepted
the change in the year 633, but it took nearly another
century to win over the rest of the country. Bede urged
upon Adamnan the propriety of conforming to the general
rule of the Church, and his arguments wrought such con-
viction in his hearer that Adamnan devoted much of the

lo AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

latter portion of his life to the task of inducing his country-
men to accept the Roman usage.

Indeed, the remainder of Adamndn's life appears to have
been divided between his abbatial duties and long and
frequent visits to Ireland, in the course of which he is said
to have taken that part in secular politics to which we shall
have to recur. The greater part of this lime, however, he
appears lo have spent in travelling about Ireland, occupied
with his favourite scheme for bringing the time of the
Easter celebration into conformity with the general practice
of the Western Church. His efforts were generally suc-
cessful; Bede, in fact {Hist. Ecd. v. 15), asserts that he
succeeded in winning over to the Catholic observance
' almost al! those who were not subject to the rule of lona.'
In the year 700, or shortly after, he returned to lona, and
attempted to introduce his reform into his own monastery,
but in spite of his abbatial authority and of his great
personal influence, he found the conservatism of that great
stronghold of the Irish Church too much for him, and his
monks refused to admit any innovation upon the national
practice. He died on the 23rd September 704, and was
buried at lona. His rehcs were brought to Ireland in
727, but are said to have been restored to his monastery
in 730.

Adamnan earned well the epithet ' High Scholar of the
Western World,' which is conferred upon him at the
opening of his Vision. His most celebrated work was the
Life of St. Coitn CHle, written in a Latin which is generally
admitted to be far superior to that commonly in use at
his day. The work suffers from the form in which it is
cast; it does not relate the events of the Saint's life in
chronological sequence, but is divided into three books,

b

THE SEER

the BrSt beu^ devoted to Cobn's pcop fcgtifa l i

the second to his "tmrl^ and die durd tob>a

risions. NercHbelGss^ it gives amcfa iu fawi in B at poC

interest, reUliiis as wcD to tW fife md acts of St. Ca>«

as to the inteiiBl life of dke InA Chaitt, while the

prefaces coRUin in^iortaiit btugu|iiical mIUi Tbe

promineiice giicn to die »"■***. nioa^ and ibe ifc^

associated with Cobo's nan^ !> nenlf wim ^ &ai ia a

la^e proportion ol tbe hap otogy of aH parieds of ifee

Cborcfa's htstotf, wtlle l&e i

of its own, and a I

tbe mcmoIOD; i

writings of this c

tbe HcnOi of St. Fnncis. Akogetfaef^ Ae Z^ a e

moDly accepted as tbe i

of the Celtic Chmch, and also ooe of i1k i

[neces of biography, ecdesiastical or b^, pro dn ced bf Ike

eariy UJddte Ages.

Another work [K Oceed iH g from Ins pen was a tiea i ise
upon tbe Hotj Places of Palestiae, Tb^ too, was wriuen
in Latin, and is consideied by Dr. Reeves to be saperior,
in point of style, to tbe L^e ^ Cairn CUk- He «as
instigated to undertake dns task by Aiad^ a faiAop of
Gaul, wbo bad ttarellcd in ftifestine, Syria, Coostaotinopi^
Alexandra, and other parts of tbe East, and on his Fetnm
bad been blown oat of bts coon^ and wrecked oo hkbc
coast near to lona. Here be was bosfxtably entettained
by Adamnan, and in tbe coorse of a prokx^ed sojoom
throngh the stormy winter months hdd mocb learned
converse with bis host, to their rnntnal edification. Arcalf
bad stadied the topography and history of tbe places be
Tiiited with a tbonMgbiKSB almost muqoe at that day, and

12 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

had even preserved accurate measurements and descrip-
tions of buildings, etc. He freely imparted the results of
his investigations to Adamnan, who was himself possessed
of the learning which could be acquired from such books
as were accessible to him.

Several ecclesiastical works — a Rule, eight Canons, etc. —
are attributed to Adamnin ; there have also been preserved
a poem and several devout opuscula in Irish which have
been ascribed to him, without foundation.

It would appear that he had some knowledge of Greek,
and even possessed a certain acquaintance with, at any
rate, the Hebrew vocabulary, whether at first or second
hand.

It now remains to be seen what further light is cast
upon Adamnan's character by the later annals ; and here
we find a mixture of Dichtung und Wahrkeif, and no
criterion whereby we may distinguish with any certainty
between the two. The additional particulars derived from
this source, if we except a few legends of miracles and
visions of the usual type, relate for the most part to
Adamndn's political activity during the last decade of the
seventh century. One episode, however, of Adatnnin's
schooldays gives the earliest recorded fact, if a fact, of his
career. It is a mere anecdote, unsupported by evidence,
yet it contains no inherent improbabihty, and is worth
repeating, if only as an authentic picture of one aspect of
scholastic life in ancient Ireland, and also as affording the
first glimpse, probably, of the ' beggar-student ' who figured
so conspicuously in the later Middle Ages, and in Ireland
survived as the 'poor scholar' almost to our own day.
The students at the Irish centres of learning— Univer-
sities, as they have been called, not without reason — used

THE SEER

»3

to dwell about their teachers in huts of wattle, provision
for their maintenance, education, and books being made
by the chiefs and ecclesiastical foundations. So great,
however, were the throngs of students, native and foreign,
who flocked to these schools, that many were compelled
to eke out the public allowance by having recourse to the
charity of neighbours. Among these was Adamnan, who
was one of a company, or mess, of five students and their
tutor, the younger students taking it in turn to provide for
all. One day this task procured Adamndn an adventure,
which introduced him to the future monarch, Finnachta
Fledach, his future relations with whom, tf truly related by
the annals, were destined to be fraught with momentous
consequences to ihem both and to the whole of Ireland.
Finnachta, though of royal race, had once been so poor
that his whole worldly possessions consisted of a house,
a wife, an ox, and a cow. At the time of which we speak,
he possessed a following, and one day, as he and his
retinue were travelling at full gallop, they came across a
young student laden with a pitcher of milk, who, in his
haste to avoid the horses, upset the pitcher and spilt the
milk. This boy was Adamnin, bringing home the day's
provision for himself and his messmates. He set out to
run by the side of the horsemen, and kept up with them
until they reached their destination. Finnachta took notice
of the boy, and, entering into conversation with him, was
so well pleased, that he not only made good the loss, but
provided the five youths and their tutor with a house and
maintenance, receiving in return from the tutor a prophecy
that he, Finnachta, should one day become monarch of
Ireland, with Adamndn for his ananuhara, or confessor.
It does not appear that this interview was immediately

14 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

productive of any further consequences to A damn An,
who, in due course, entered the monastic life, as before

mentioned.

The next incident of importance, not already mentioned,
which the annalists relate concerning Adamnin, is at once
one of the most momentous and most obscure portions
of his career — namely, his action in connection with the
Boruma tribute. This was a heavy fine, in cattle and
various precious articles, which Tuathal Techtmar, Ard-Ri
of Ireland about the end of the first century a.d., had
laid upon Leinster in perpetuity (or, according to some
authorities, for forty years) to punish a grave crime com-
mitted by the king of that province. The intermittent
exaction of this tribute was not the least among the many
causes of discord which prevented the ideal polity of
Ireland, viz. a confederation of kingdoms and princi-
palities — an Empire we might call it — under the overlord-
ship of the Ard-R(, from ever becoming realised in a
permanently efficient form. This grievance St. Moling, with
the support of several other leading prelates, determined to
remove, and, it is said, induced Finnachta (who had
become Ard-R( in 673-4, having defeated and slain in
battle his predecessor Cennfaelad) to issue a decree for its
aboUtion. This event is commonly dated in the year 693,
but Canon O'Hanlon, on the authority of O'Flaherty'fi
inks it must be earlier, and is inclined to
place it in 692, the year of Adamnan's visit to Ireland.'
It is recorded in a treatise on the Boruma, printed and
translated by Mr. Standish Hayes O'Grady in his Silva
Gadelica ; it is there told in narrative form, with dialogues
in the oratio recta, and intermingled with many fictitious
' Livti of I he Irish Saints, vi. 708 ; and see liiif., ix. 505,

THE SEER

circumstances so as to make up a story ; however, the main
incidents accord with a fragment of Irish annals given by
Mr. O'Grady in the same work, and with the Irish poem
formeriy ascribed to AdamnAn. The means by which St.
Moling induced the king to grant his request show all the
symptoms of a folk-tale. By the promise of eternal life
immediately after death, he procured Finnachta's promise
to remit the tribute until Luan, which in Irish properly
means Monday, but was also and still is a frequent term
for the Day of Judgment — ' Black Monday.' The monarch,
understanding the word in its literal sense, thought the
terms easy, and gave his promise ; the saint, however,
insisted upon putting his own interpretation on it, and
Flnnachta had to consent to the perpetual remission of the
tribute. The measure itself was most wise and statesman-
like; nevertheless, pernicious as the tribute was, the
abolition of it touched the pride of the Ui Neill, the ruling
race of Ireland. The organisation of the Church was
based upon the clan system which prevailed in the State ;
religious communities were often composed of fellow-
bribesmen, ecclesiastical dignities passed from one genera-
tion to another of the same chiefly family, and the head of
an order was practically a clerical chieftain, sharing with
the lay princes that fatal tendency to prefer local to national
interests which has been fraught with consequences to
Ireland more dire than the Boruma itself. Adamndn is
represented as possessing his full share of this family or
racial pride, and joined with the clergy of his race in
offering a bitter opposition to the new measure. The
narrative of his dealings with Finnachta is more graphic
than authentic. With an authority, to say the least of it,
worthy of a Hildebrand or Innocent iii., he sent a clerk to

A

i6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Finnachta to summoa him to instant conference. The
king was then playing at chess, and declined to budge
until his game was ended. Adamnan, informed of this,
sent back word that he would chant fifty psalms while
waiting, the effect of which would be to deprive the king's
whole race of the kingdom for ever. This was announced
to the king, but he had begun a second game, and
declined to stir until it was over. Adamnan then sent
word that he would chant another fifty psalms, which
should bring on the king shortness of life ; but Finnachta,
now engaged in a third game, sent the same answer as
before. Then Adamnan sent word that he would chant
yet another fifty psalms, which should deprive Finnachta
of the Lord's peace. Then Finnachta hastily arose, quitted
his chess, and repaired to Adamnan's presence. On being
asked why he came, after ignoring all previous messages,
he explained that the exclusion of his posterity from his
kingdom troubled him but little, neither did he care for a
speedy death, seeing that Moling had promised him eternal
life, but he could not bear to be excluded from the Lord's
peace. However, though Finnachta then made personal
submission to Adamndn, the decree remained, and God
would not suffer Adamnan to deprive the king of the
reward which Moling had promised him.

It is obvious that this narrative, in point of form, is
fiction pure and simple; as fictitious as the speeches in
Thucydides, or the dialogues in Herodotus or Plutarch.
For this reason, and because of the discrepancy of dales,
and the uncertainty attending the whole question of the
remission of the Boruma, some authorities are inclined to
call in question the entire story of Adamnan's relations
with Finnachta, and to relegate it to the domain of fiction.

THE SEER 17

This summary method of cutting the knot appears to be
somewhat arbitrary : if a lllTera] admixture of fiction be
sufficient absolutely to discredit the chronicles into which
it enters, we may be called upon to disbelieve that there is
any historic basis for Livy's Hhtory, or the records of
Charlemagne, for instance. In the present case it seems
most doubtful whether any means exist for deteimining
what, if any, basis of fact underlies the narrative, but
having regard to the attention paid by the Irish writers to
the record of past and contemporary events — which by no
means implies the strict accuracy of the record — it seems
improbable that the recorded acts, in matters of great
public interest, of such notable characters as Atd-Ri
Fianachta and St. Adamnan should not represent, in
substance, the parts which they actually played in the
public hfe of their time.

About this time another cause of discord is said to have
put a further strain upon the relations subsisting between
the Saint and the Ard-Ri. Finnachta having excluded
the lands belonging to the Order of St. Colm Cille from
the privileges accorded to the foundations of SS. Patrick,
Finian, and Ciaran, Adamnin again provoked, and this
time apparently with better reason, by this fresh infringe-
ment of the dignity of Uiad, put a curse upon the king,
and foretold that his Ufe should be short, that he should
fall by a fratricidal stroke, and that the kingdom should pass
from his race for ever ; which triple prophecy was fulfilled
when Fiimachta and his son Bresal were slain by a cousin
in the year 693-4.

A few years after these events, according to the annals,
Adamnan acquired a more honourable distinction by
means of the ecclesiastical legislation embodied in his

i8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

' Canons,' and by the more famous law, or code of laws,
known as the Cdin Adamndin. Each of these was
promulgated at a Mirddil^^ Great Assembly ' — the Diet or
Stales- General of Ireland. According to the more general
account, both were passed at a Mdrdiil held in 697
at Tara, or, according to others, at Ballyshannon, Derry, or
Raphoe. Probably Tara was assumed inadvertently to
have been the place of meeting by some chronicler who,
bearing in mind the ancient custom, had forgotten that
Tara had been abandoned since the cursing of it by St.
Ruaddn. According to the Four Masters and Tigernach,
the last Feis of Tara was held in the year 554 a.d. Or,
possibly, there is a confusion between the general M6rddil
of tire and an ecclesiastical Synod which appears to
have been held at Tara about tlie time in question.
In this uncertainty as to which of the several Synods
and M6rdila, held towards the close of the seventh
century, was the scene of Adamndn's legislation. Canon
O'Hanlon suggests that the Synod of 694-5 would be the
most likely occasion of the enactment of the Canons, if it
were certain that Adamnan was present {op. cit. ix. 50S and
51a), and that the Cdin was passed at the Mdrdail of
696-7, in the reign of Ard-Ri Loingseach mac Oengusa,
according to the general account ; this likewise agrees with
the treatise about to be mentioned, which, however, gives
Birr as the place of assembly. The most important article
of the Cdin was the renewal of a law passed by St. Colm
Cille at the Mdrdail of Druimceatt in 590, but since fallen
into desuetude, whereby women were exempted from
military service. The Cdin Adamtidin is an Old Irish
treatise, probably of the tenth century, according to Pro-
lessor Kuno Meyer, who has published an edition of it,

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>9

with notes, in Anecioia Oxonietisia {Mediaval and Modern
Series, pt. viii.). It is not the work of Adamnan himself,
but merely purports to give an account of the laws which
he passed, and the circumstances uf his doing so. It is
clearly compounded of various elements, and it is worked
up into a complete story by dint of the employment of a
number of fictitious details. It opens wilh a melancholy
picture of the status of women in Ireland in Adamnan's
day, their home life being depicted as a state of abject
slavery, while they were further liable to military service.
These descriptions can only be accepted with very great
limitations, for the laws, the Church literature, and the
romances of Ireland contain abundant evidence to prove
that the state of things here depicted, if it existed at all,
was not generally prevalent, the picture drawn iu the Cdin
being greatly exaggerated for the greater honour and glory ,
of Adamnan. At the same time there is no need to go to
the opposite extreme, and assume that the position accorded
to women in ancient Ireland realised in practice the
theories of chivalry. It does not follow that the author of
the Cdin invented the circumstances he describes ; indeed,
there is evidence that a similar state of things existed in
Ireland so late as Tudor times at least, while parallels
might be found in the great cities of a much more recent
date. But it is the wont of those who treat of social and
moral evils, whether as reformers or satirists, or in a less
worthy capacity — from Juvenal to Zola, and from Salvian
to Father Bernard Vaughan^to represent the sporadic
and occasional evils of society as its habitual condition.
As regards the military service of women, it appears certain
that women did, and probably were required to, serve in
the wars to some extent. Nevertheless, neither the annals

lo AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

nor the romances warrant the conclusion that great troops
of women swelled the Irish armies. It seems probable
that in the varied and complicated system of the Irish land
tenure, female tenants may have been obliged to render
military service rattom fenurac, instances of which practice
occur in other parts of Europe.

Whatever the nature or extent of the evil, it was greatly
taken to heart by Adamnin's mother Ronat, and dutiful as
her son was to her, she counted his service as nought
until he should effect the emancipation of women. One
day, as they were on a journey — Adamndn, after his usual
custom, carrying his mother on his back — they came to a
battlefield, where so great had been the slaughter that the
women lay, the soles of one touching the neck of another ;
but the most piteous sight of all was a woman with her
head in one place and her body in another, and her baby
lying on the breast of the corpse, with a stream of milk on
one cheek, and a stream of blood on the other. At his
mother's bidding, Adamnan set the woman's head upon the
trunk, made the sign of the cross with his staff, and she
arose and related her experiences in the next world
between her death and resuscitation. Ronat, still further
confirmed in her purpose, imposed incredible austerities
upon Adamnin in order to coerce him into compliance.
At the end of four years an angel came to him and bade
him rise, but he refused to do so until he received a
promise that women should be emancipated. He then
came forward with his proposals of reform, which offended
several of the lay princes, so that they combined to put
Adamnan to death. At length terms were agreed upon,
and all parties pledged themselves that in future women
should be exempted from military service, and that no

THE SEER 91

women should be slain by men wiihout full legal penalties
being exacted. This compact was solemnly sworn to by
the contracting parties ; the formula of the oath was founded
upon that whereby the kings in pagan times had been wort
to bind themselves in matters of great moment, and which
survived, with necessary modifications, for some centuries
after the introduction of Christianity, They took to witness
the sun and moon, and all the other elements of God ; the
Apostles, Gr^ory, the two Patricks, and other Irish saints.
The terms of the oath explain the form of St, Patrick's
famous hymn.

The constraction of the treatise is extremely loose ; the
form, in many places, is that of the ecclesiastical legend,
and the present redaction was evidently made in the clerical
interest. As a further instance of its composite character,
in c. 33 it makes a fresh start with the words Incipit
senttntia angeli Adamnano, and relates how the angel, after
two previous punishments inflicted, came to Adamnan
and smote him on the side, bidding him go to Ireland and
enact a law that no woman should be slain with impunity.
It also states that Adamnan's law was extended to clerical
students and children, and further gives sundry araend-
roeots of the laws relating to cases of assauh, rape,
slander of chastity, etc. Women, in turn, were made
liable for the crimes they might commit; in particular,
they were rendered punishable for poison, arson, or under-
mining a church by the old Irish penalty of being set
adrift in a boat with a single paddle, and one vessel of
meal and one of water.

The accuracy of this treatise in point of detail hardly
calls for discussion. It is a specimen of the form in which
we have received much of our information concerning

21 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

ancient Ireland ; a form combining fact and fiction in a
manner which often renders it impossible to distinguish
between the two without extraneous evidence, which is
seldom to be had. Here we have as the substratum an
account of Adamnan's actual legislation, set off with an
abundance of fictitious detail, in which a redactor has
attempted to combine two different accounts of the circum-
stances which brought about Adamndn's action, while he
has added a quantity of other legislative reforms, more or
less connected with the subject, but only a part of which,
if any, can be due to Adamndn himself. Here, as in the
case of the Boruma, it is left for the most part to our sub-
jective views of probability to determine what amount of
reliance is to be placed upon the historical facts which
form the main subject of the treatise. Despite the crudity
of the work, perhaps the evidence in favour is rather
stronger in this case, for not only is it natural to assume
that the statements of a legal nature would be tolerably
in accordance with the facts, which must have been known
to many of the readers, but the ascription of the reform
to Adamndn — under the alternative name of the lex inno-
ctnlium — appears to have been accepted without hesitation
by several independent authorities, including the Aiihu/s of
Ulster and the Fis Adamndin.

The last action of Adamndn recorded by the annals,
and one that seems fairly well authenticated, is a sentence
of excommunication pronounced by him at Tara upon one
Irgalach for murder. One of the annalistic fragments
preserves a report that Adamndn, at the close of hia life,
was expelled from lona by his own monks on account of
his action in the Easter controversy ; this, however, appears
to be without foundation, for the fact of his death and

THE SEER

burial at lona seems certain. Another mmour was thati
grief at the recalcitrance of his monks, for the same reason,^
had brought about his death, for which no other explana-
tion seems needed than his sevenly-seven years, mostly
spent in strenuous toil, though, of course, any vexation or
distress of mind might well be the immediate cause of ,
death.

Our available information concerning Adamnan does \
not set a very vivid picture of htm before us. His
writings are of a somewhat impersonal character, while
the Irish annalists seldom bring to their portrayal of
historical persons that power of characterisation and
description constantly apparent in the romances. We
have already seen Bede's testimony to Adamnan's learning
and high character ; the Four Masters, in their notice of
Adamnin's death (which they place in 703) refer to that
passage, and add that he was ' tearful, penitent, given to
prayer, diligent, ascetic, temperate; for he never used to
eat excepting on Sunday and Thursday only ; he made a
slave of himself to these virtues ; and, moreover, he was
wise and learned in ibe clear understanding of the Holy
Scriptures of God.' And a few scattered notices of the
kind appear to comprise all that we have in the way of
direct description. Nevertheless, the authentic record of
his actions, combined with the more doubtful evidence of
later annalists — which, at the very least, serve to show
what notion of him survived, and was transmitted to
posterity — may enable us to trace with tolerable accuracy
the more salient outlines of his character. That his was
a striking and commanding personality there is no doubt :
he appears to have been fashioned after the same type as
so many of the leading Churchmen of the Middle Ages,

a4 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

from Ambrose down ; a type which combined a great pro-
ficiency in learning, and a devotion to the virtues of the
cloister, with a strenuous activity which asserted itself
alike in the diligent administration of their ecclesiastical
office, and in the exercise of their influence upon secular
affairs. In these last, their intervention commonly made
for righteousness, and aimed at putting a conscience into
politics, never a superfluous task. They often stood for-
ward as the champions of the wronged and oppressed, and
in this cause, and, even more, in defence of the claims and
immunities of the Church, never feared to encounter the
temporal power; rather otherwise, in fact. This side of
Adamndn's character appears in his mission to Northum-
bria on behalf of the kidnapped Irishmen, and his alleged
defence against Finnachta of the privileges of his own
order ; above all, in his amelioration of the lot of women
— possibly, too, of students and children — the records
whereof, whatever the amount of historical fact which they
contain, reveal the estimation in which Adamnin was held.
At the same time, it the incident of the Boruma be either
true in fact, or true to his character, it is evident that he
was as Hable as any of his great compeers, foreign or Irish
— Colra Cille and Ruaddn, for instance — to allow his
zeal to be enlisted in the cause of party interest or per-
sonal sympathies, to the great public detriment. He en-
joyed a traditional reputation for 6Hal piety, and, at least,
tribal patriotism. His recorded asceticism, however
severe, does not appear, save in some of the least credible
passages of the Cdin, to have been carried by him to the
same lengths of self-torture, worthy of a solitary of the
Thebaid, or an InAiSia yogi, as it was by many of the Irish
saints. Indeed, his was mainly a life of action, and even

THE SEER

as

the learning for which he was famous is more apparent in
the quality of his work than in the quantity of it. The
part of his career which left the most enduring mark upon
his Church and his country was the mainly successful
struggle which he carried on as the leading Irish champion
of Catholicism in the long contest, begun before his time,
and only finished by Malachi and Gelasius in the middle
of the twelfth century, between the respective partisans of
national and of general usages in the ritual of the Irish
Church. That portion of his work which he left unfinished,
the submission of his own order, was completed within a
quarter of a century after his death, and the ties between
the Churches of Ireland and other countries of the West
were drawn tighter by the removal of the chief cause of
separation.

The Vision which has come down to us under the name
of Adamn^ is not to be included among his own works.
The language and style, which belong to a much later
period, are conclusive as to this ; while several allusions in
it, as that to the donation of Constantine, also point to a
later dale. Dr. Whitley Stokes, indeed, considers that 'it
is not older than the eleventh century/ but Professor Win-
disch, in the preface to his edition, demurs to this conclusion,
and holds that it was written in the tenth century, possibly
even in the ninth {Iruche Texte, i. 167 iqq^- Nevertheless,
it is not to be classed among the literary forgeries with
which the Middle Ages teem, composed sometimes ammo
fraudandi, sometimes, in the loose views then prevailing as
to literary property and literary fame, in order to secure the
prestige of a great name. The present work, however,
never professes to be Adamnan's own composition. It
invariably speaks of him in the third person, terming him

\

26 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the 'High Scholar of the Western World," and refers to his
legislation at the Mdrddil, where he is said to have first
received his Vision, and to his subsequent preaching as
matters of past history. It remains, then, to be considered
how this Vision came to be associated with his name. We
have seen that he had become the hero of a saga-cycle, into
which fiction had made an entrance : whether we must class
the doubtful episodes as historical romance merely, or as
facts set off by the aid of fiction. This, however, brings
us little further, for it is certain that this popular reputation
was earned by his actual achievements: again, therefore,
we are faced with the question how to distinguish fact frora
fiction. It may be that the true author sought for his own
teaching the authority of so famous a saint; or he may
have had before him an anonymous work, and inserted the
name of Adamndn from a like motive, or from a belief in
the fact ; or, again, the work may be what it professes to be,
and may have for its basis a more or less accurate tradition
of Adamndn's own teaching. A tradition, I venture to think,
should be allowed a certain weight where it is in conflict
neither with ascertained fact nor with probability ; and here
the probabilities appear to be rather favourable than other-
wise, which, perhaps, in the absence of further evidence,
is the nearest approach to aconclusion we can hope to make.
It is not a forgery ; it is not a polemical work, where the
author might wish to shoot forth his darts from under the
shield of some Ajax of controversy. Neither is it a mere
floating legend, ready to be tacked on to any name indiffer-
ently; on the contrary, it is imtlen with great care, and
with a literary and constructive skill rare at that day. It
makes no profession, and betrays no purpose, save to give
the substance of the Vision which Adamnin related to the

THESEER 27

M6rdail, and of his subsequent preaching. The fashion of
the day renders it highly probable that Adaninin's teaching
or preaching may have assumed this form. Then his fame
and authority, at the most active period of Irish letters,
might avail to preserve a work, thus widely published, for a
longer time than the 150 or 250 years which intervened
between his death and the composition of the Vision, even
in its present form, while if the reasons adduced in a later
place (Part 11. Sec. 5, post) for supposing it to be of a com-
posite character be correct, it follows that the latest author
must have had before him — as in any case he probably
had — materials of an earlier date.

Thus the Fis and the Cdin appear to institute an exact
parallel. We have as the basis of the extant work, in the
one case, a law etiacted, in the other, a Vision recited, by the
saint, which a later writer has worked up into literary form,
while other delaiis relating to the same subject-matter, bat
entirely irrelevant, have been added later.

Two versions of the Fis Adamndin exist, in two mediseval
MSS., now in the Library of the Royal Irish Academy. Of
these, the Zeior na A- d/T' or ' Book of the Dun' (ji:. 'Cow'),
is the oldest extant Irish MS. which contains a collection
of secular literature, being copied about 1 103 from another
MS., probably about fifty years older, which was itself com-
piled from various earlier writings. The other MS., the
Lebor BreCi 'Speckled Book,' was written towards the end
of the fourteenth century. Both versions have been edited
and printed by Professor Windisch in Irische Texte, vol. i.
I believe that no complete translation of either version has
been published in a form generally accessible, though
O'Donovan made and translated extracts from it, and Dr.
Whitley Stokes has edited and translated it, with notes, but

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

printed fifty copies only for private distribution (Simla, 1870).
I have had the advantage of referring to this edition, thanks
to the courtesy of Mr. Alfred Nutt, to whom I am indebted
for several valuable suggestions and corrections.

The following translation has been made from the L.U.
version. There is little difference in substance belween
the two versions, but the L.U. is more attractive from a
literary point of view, the L.B. being somewhat overloaded
in places with Latin quotations, while it wants the conclud-
ing chapter, which the L.U, possesses.

3. Tkamslation of the Fis AdamnAin

1. Noble and wonderful is the Lord of the Elements,
and great and marvellous are His might and His power.
For He callelh to Himself in Heaven the charitable and
merciful, the meek and considerate; but He consigns and
casts down to Hell the impious and unprofitable host of
the children of the curse. For upon the blessed He
bestows the hidden treasures and the manifold wages of
Heaven, while He inflicts a diversity of torments, in many
kinds, upon the sons of death.

2. Now there are multitudes of the saints and righteous
ones of the Lord of Creation, and of the apostles and
disciples of Jesus Christ, unto whom have been revealed
the secrets and the mysteries of the Heavenly Kingdom,
and the golden wages of the righteous ; likewise the divers
pains of Hell, with them that are set in the midst thereof.
For unto the Apostle Peter was shown the four-cornered

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 29
vessel, let down from Heaven,' with four cords to it, and
they with sound as sweet as any music. Also, the Apostle
Paul was caught up to Heaven,'' and heard the ineffable
words of the angels, and the speech of them that dwell in
Heaven. Moreover, on the day of Mary's death, all the
apostles were brought to look upon the pains and miser-
able punishments of the unblest ; for the Lord commanded
the angels of the West^ to open up the earth before the
face of the apostles, that they might see and consider Hell
with all its torments, even as Himself had told them, long
time before His Passion.

3. Finally, to Adamnan ua Thinne, the High Scholar of
the Western World, were revealed the things which are here
recorded ; for his soul departed from out his body on the
feast of John Baptist, and was conveyed to the celestial
realm, where the heavenly angels are, and to Hell, with its
rabble rout. For no sooner had the soul issued from out
the body, than there appeared to it the angel that had been
its guardian while in the flesh, and bore it away with him
to view, firstly, the Kingdom of Heaven.

4. Now the first land to which they come is the I^nd of
Saints. A bright land of fair weather is that country. In

' Acts JL II.

° 2 Cor. lii. 2-4- Cp. alio GalaC. i. iz, 16 ; Ephes. i. 3 ; and the
Apocryphal Aci! of Paul, Ante-Nicene Library, vol. xvi.

' With the ancient Irish, the abode of the departed was beyond the
Atlantic, towards the setting sun ; so, in the Hindu mythology, Yama,
King of the Dead, crossed the stream towards Ihe sunset, first showing
the way by which all men were to follow him. This natural idea has
htin shared by many barbarous races.

(

30 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE
it are diveise and nondroos compacies, dad in cassocks oS
white lioen, with hoods of radiant white npon theii heads.
The saints of the Eastern world form a company apart in
Ibe East of the Land of Saints ; the saints of the Western
wtwld are to the West of the same land ; the saints of the
Northern world and of the South, in their great coocoorse,
are to the South and North. For every one that is in the
Land of Saints may freely listen to the music, and may
contemplate the vault,* wherein are the nine classes of
Heaven, after their rank and order.

5- For one spell, then, the saints keep singing mairel-
lous mu^c in praise of God ; for another, they are listening
lo the music of the heavenly host ; for the saints have no
other need than to listen to the music that they hear, and
to contempbte the radiance that they see, and to sate them-
selves with the fragrance that there is in that land. The
wonderful Lord is face to face with them, in the South-
east,' and a crystal veil between ; to the South is a golden
portico, and through it they discern the form and adumbra-
tion of the people of Heaven. No veil, however, nor cloud
is between the Host of Heaven and the Host of the Saints,
but those are ever manifest and present unto these, in a
place that is over against them. A circle of fire surroui>ds
this place, yet do they all pass in and out, and it does
scathe to none.

' Vaolt; mti^ tomje, genilive of tcmj, =5liip. Qj. hete = '[>aTe'?
' Soalh-eaar, posnUr becMK tlar u the dinctka o€ JensalcB. Ibe
ttoty City,

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 31
6, Now, the Twelve Apostles and Mary the pure Virgin
fonn a band apart, about the mighty Lord. Next to the
Apostles are the Patriarchs and Prophets, and the disciples
of Jesus. On the other side are holy Virgins, at Mary's
right hand, and with no great space between. Babes and
striplings are about them on every side, and the bird-choirs
of the heavenly folk, making their minstrelsy. And amid
these companies, bands of angels, guardians of the souls,
do perpetual suit and service in the Royal presence. No
man is there in this present life who may describe those
assemblies, or who may tell of the very manner of them.
And the bands and companies which are in the land of
saints abide continually in even such great glory as afore-
said, until the great Parliament ' of Doom, when the right-
eous Judge, on the Day of Judgment, shall dispose them in
their stations and abiding places, where they shall contem-
plate God's countenance, with no veil nor shadow between,
through ages everlasting.

7. But great and vast as are the splendour and the
radiance in the Land of Saints, even as hath been said,
more vast, a thousand times, the splendour which is in the
region of the Heavenly Host, about the Lord's own throne.
This throne is fashioned like unto a canopied chair,^ and
beneath it are four columns of precious stone. Though
one should have no minstrelsy at all, save the harmonious

> The word used ii mdp-oiiL, 1

Auembly, 01 States- General. See anie. Sec. i.

* Or, 'a chair highly wrought,' Inni titiip t<

of the Irish National

32 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE
music of those four columns, yet would he have his fill of
melody and delight Three stately birds are jjerched upon
that chair, in front of the King, their minds intent upon
the Creator throughout all ages, for that is their vocation.
They celebrate the eight [canonical] hours, praising and
adoring the Lord, and the Archangels accompany them.
For the birds and the Archangels lead the music, and
then the Heavenly Host, with the Saints and Virgins,
make response.

8. Over the head of the Glorious One that sitteth upon
the royal throne is a great arch, like unto a wrought
helmet, or a regal diadem ; ' and the eye which should
behold it would forthwith melt away. Three circles are
round about it, separating it from the host, and by no
explanation may the nature of them be known. Six thou-
sand thousands, in guise of horses and of birds, surround
the fiery chair, which still bums on, without end or term.

9. Now to describe the mighty Lord that is upon that
throne is not for any, unless Himself should do so, or
should so direct the heavenly dignitaries. For none could
tell of his vehemence and might. His glow^ and splendour,

' The comparison of the aich above ihe head of the Heavenly King
to a. wiought helmet or s regal diadem, may have been suggested by
the picturesque atid chivalrous custom of the Irish kings recorded in
It Irish poem upon the Fair of Carman, whence it appears that
their head-dress on ordioatj slate occasions was a wrought helmet, the
royal crown being reserved for the day of battle.

" ' Glow,' Tjense, lit. ' redness,' which, Mr. Whitley Stokes suggests,
'lymbolises divine love, creative power, royalty,' If so, cp. Dante's
description of a 'goodly crimson ' as ' questo nobilissimo colore.'

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAiN 33
His brightness and loveliness, His liberality and steadfast-
ness, nor of the multitude of His Angels and Archangels,
which chant their songs to Him. His messengers keep
going to and from Him, ever and anon, with brief messages
to each assemblage, telling to the one host of His mild-
ness and mercy, and to the other of His sternness and
harshness.

10. Whoso should stand facing about him, East and
West, South and North, would behold on each side of
him a majestic countenance, seven times as radiant as the
sun. No human form thereto, with head or foot, may be
discerned, but a fiery mass, burning on for ever, while one and
all are filled with awe and trembling before Him. Heaven
and earth are filled full with the light of Him, and a radiance
as of a royai star encircles Him.^ Three thousand different
songs are chanted by each several choir about Him, and
sweeter than all the varied music of the world is each
individual song of them.

11. Furthermore, in this wise is the fashion of that city,
wherein that throne is set. Seven crystal walls of various
hue surround it, each wall higher than the wall that is
before it.^ The floor, moreover, and the lowest base of
that city, is of fair crystal, with the sun's countenance
upon it (P), shot with blue, and purple, and green, and
every hue beside.

' Or, jy. 'comet'?

' Compare the desciiptlon of tlie seven walls of Ecbnlana, of
(lifTerenl hue, in llerodolus, Book I.

34 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

12. A gentle folk, most mitd, most kindly, lacking id no
goodly quality, are they that dwell within that city ; for none
come there, and none abide there ever, save holy youths,
and pilgrims zeaious for God. But as for their array and
ordinance, hard is it to understand how it is contrived,
for none turns back nor side to other, but the unspeakable
power of God has set, and keeps, them face to face, in
ranks and lofty coronels, all round the throne, circling it
in brightness and bliss, their faces all towards God.

13. There is a chancel rail^ of silver between each two
choirs, cunningly wrought upon with red gold and sUver,
and choice rows of precious stones, variegated with diverse
gems, and against that lattice are seats and canopies ^ of
carbuncle. Between every two chief companies are three
precious stones, softly vocal with sweet melody, and the
upper halves of them are lighted lamps. Seven thousand
angels, as it were great candles, shine and illumine that
city round about; seven thousand others in the midst
thereof are aflame for ever, throughout the royal city.
The men of all the world, if gathered into one place, many
as they are, would derive sustenance enough from the
sweet savour of any one of those candies,

14. Now, such of the world's inhabitants as attain not
to that city after their life is spent, and to whom a dwelling-
place therein is allotted after the Words of Doom shall

1 So Windisch trans. Cpanij cflinjiL, —canceUi.
* 'Seals,' or ijy. stalls; the anthor appeais to have in mind the
f a Chiislian chuich. Cp. note to ch. 31/171/. 'Cano-

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAiN 35
have been spoken, find a restless and unstable habitation,

until the coming of Judgment, on heights and hilltops,
and in marshy places. Even so fare those hordes and
companies, with the guardian angel of every soul in their
midst, serving and tending them. In the main doorway
of the city they are confronted by a veil of fire and a veil
of ice, smiting perpetually one against the other. The
noise and din of these veils, as they clash together, are
heard throughout the world, and the seed of Adam, should
they hear that din, would be seized thereat with trembling
and intolerable dismay. Faint and dazed are the wicked
at that din ; howbeit, on the side of the Heavenly Host,
nought is heard of that rude discord, save a very little
only, and that sweeter than any music.

15. Awful is that city, and wonderful to describe; for a
little out of much is that which we have told concerning
its various orders, and the wonders of it. Seldom indeed
may a spirit, after its converse and co-habitation with the
body, in slumber and repose, in freedom and luxury, win
its way to the throne of the Creator, unguided of the
angels; for hard of essay are the seven Heavens, nor is
any one of them easier than the rest. Six guarded doors
confront all those of mortal race who reach the Kingdom.
There sits a porter and warder of the Heavenly Host,
keeping guard over each door. At the door of thai
Heaven which is nearest on the hither side sits the Arch-
angel Michael, and with him two youths, ^ with iron rods
' Or 'virgins,' W. S.

n

36 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

in their laps to scourge and smite the sinners as they pass
through this the first grief and torment of the path they
have to tread.

16. At the door of the next Heaven, the Archangel
Ariel is warder, and with him two youths,' with fiery
scourges in their hands, wherewith they scourge the
wicked across the face and eyes. A river of fire, its
surface an ever-burning flame, lies before that door.
Abersetus is the angel's name who keeps watch over that
river, and purges the souls of the righteous, and washes
them in the stream, according to the amount of guilt that
cleaves to them, until they become pure and shining as is
the radiance of the stars. Hard by is a pleasant spring,
flowery and fragrant, to cleanse and solace the souls of the
righteous, though it annoys and scalds the souls of the
guilty, and does away nought from them, but it is increase
of pain and torment that comes upon them there. Sinners
arise from out of it in grief and immeasurable sadness, but
the righteous proceed with joy and great delight to the
door of the third Heaven.

i-j. Above this, a fiery furnace keeps ever burning, its
flames reaching a height of twelve thousand cubits; through
it the righteous pass in the twinkling of an eye, but the
souls of sinners are baked and scorched therein for twelve
years, and then their guardian angel conveys them to the
fooith door. About the entrance door of the fourth
Heayen is a fiery stream, like the foregoing. It is sur-
^ See lail nole.

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAiN 37
rounded by a wall of fire, in breadth twelve thousand
measured cubits, through which the souls of the righteous
pass as though it were not there, while the souls of the
sinful tarry therein, amid pain and tribulation, for another
twelve years, until their guardian angel bears them to the
door of the fifth Heaven.

iS. In that place is a fiery river, which is unlike al!
other rivers, for in the midst of it is a strange kind of
whirlpool, wherein the souls of the wicked keep turning
round and round, and there they abide for the space of
sixteen years; the righteous, however, win through it
straightway, without any hindrance. So soon as the due
time Cometh for the sinners to be released thereout, the
angel strikes the water with a rod, hard as though it were
of stone, and uplifts the spirits with the end of that rod.
Then Michael bears them up to the door of the sixth
Heaven ; but no pain nor torment is meted out to the
spirits at that door, but there they are illumined with the
lustre and the brilliancy of precious stones. Then
Michael cometh to the Angel of the Trinity, and one
on either side they usher the soul into the presence
of God.

19. Infinite and beyond all telling is the welcome where-
with the Lord and the Heavenly Host then receive the
soul, if he be a pure and righteous soul ; if, however, he
be an unrighteous and unprofitable soul, harsh and un-
gentle is the reception of him by the Mighty Lord. For
He saith to the Heavenly Angels, ' Take, O Heavenly

33 AS ERISS PH.aCC"tt»OK OF OAHTE
hanii 'if Lucifei; limt he ca&y plnn^ innL aidi iiBKil^' ex-

!a. T^ssucon that wr pf rrfimf siui is a
scenii]^. ztrfnll*. Dam ^ghc a£ die 5tm>aBi|f I

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAiN

39

from one bank to the other; high the middle of it, but
lower its two extremities. Three companies seek to pass
oyer it, but not all succeed. One company find the
brit^e to be of ample width, from beginning to end, until
they win across the fiery glen, safe and sound, fearless and
undismayed. The second company, when entering upon
it, find it narrow at first, but broad afterwards, until they,
in like manner, fare across that same glen, after great
peril. But for tlie last company the bridge is broad at
first, but strait and narrow thereafter, until they fall
from the midst of it into that same perilous glen, into
the throats of those eight red-hot serpents, that have their
dwelling-place in the glen.

23. Now the folk to whom that path was easy were the
chaste, the penitent, the diligent, they who had zealously
borne a bloody testimony to God. The band who found
the path narrow at first, but afterwards broad, were they
who had hardly been constrained to do God's will, but
had afterwards converted their constraint into ilie willing
service of God. They, however, to whom this way was
broad at first, but strait thereafter, were sinners who had
listened to the precepts in God's word, and after having
heard, fulfilled them not.

24. Furthermore, vast multitudes abide beyond, feeble and
powerless, upon the shore of perpetual pain, in the land
of utter darkness. Every other hour the pain ebbs away
from them, and the next hour it returns upon them again.
Now these are they in whom good and evil were equally

!

40 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

balanced, and on the Day of Doom, judgment shall be
passed between them, and their good shall quench their evil
on that day ; and then shall they be brought to the Haven
of Life, in God's own presence, through ages everlasting.

25, Another great company is there, near to the last'

named group, and monstrous their torment. And this

is their plight 1 they are fettered to fiery columns, a sea

of fire about them up to their chins, and about their

middle fiery chains, in the shape of vipers, Their faces

I are aflame with agony. They who are tormented thus

I are sinners, fratricides,^ ravagers of" God's Church, and

I merciless Erenachs,^ who, in presence of the relics of the

I Saints, had been set over the Church's tithes and obla-

lions," and had alienated these riches to their private store,

■ away from the Lord's guests and needy ones.

a6. Great multitudes there are, standing in blackest
mire up to their girdles. Short cowls of ice are on them.
Without rest or intermission, through all time, their
girdles are perpetually scorching them with alternate
cold and heat. Demon hosts surround them, with fiery
clubs* in their hands, striking them over the head, though
they struggle against them continually. These wretches ail

' Or 'parricides,' pni^atdft, which O'Donovan translates both as
'a fratricide, one who has killed a tribesman,' and 'parricidal'
{Supplement to O'Reilly's Dictionary).

' The Ereniich, or ii|icin'oet, was the official guardian of Church
lempotalilins.

' 'Oioiib, which signiGes 'pfts,' 'arts,' etc.

< pLuic, which W. S. trans. * maces," or ' clubs. '

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 41
have their foreheads to the North, and a rough, sharp
wind blowing full upon their foreheads, in addition to
every other woe. Red showers of fire are raining on
them, erery night and every day, and they cannot ward
them off, but must needs endure them throughout all ages,
wailing and making moan.

27. Some of them have streams of fire in the hollows
of their visages ; some, fiery nails through their tongues ;
others, through their heads, from side to side. They who
are so punished are thieves and liars, and they who have
practised treachery, reviling robbery and rapine; judges
of false judgment and contentious persons ; women who
have dealt in poison and spells, reivers,^ and learned men
who have practised heresy. Another great throng is set
upon islands, in the midst of the fiery sea. About them
is a silver wall [built] of the raiment and the alms [which
they had bestowed]. These are they who have practised
mercy without zeal,^ and have remained in loose living, and
in the bonds of their sin, until the hour of their death ;
but their alms are a bulwark unto them, amid the fiery
sea, until the Judgment, and after Judgment they shall be
brought into the Haven of Life.

aS. Another great multitude is there, clad in red and fiery
mantles down to their middle.* Their trembling and their

' ' Reivers,' air-oibeTij-iis, which W. S. iran^. ' men who mark
themselves to the Deril,' hut eipressea doubt on the suliject, and cites
■uthorilias which seem to imply the sense of rapine 01 plunder.

^ Or ' without remission, but they,' etc.

^ Co Loji, which W. S. Irans. 'down to the ground.'

i

4z AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE
outcries make themselves heard, even unto the firmament,
An unspeakable throng of demons is throttling tbem,
holding in leash the while raw-hided, stinking hounds,
which they incite to devour and consume them. Red
glowing chains^ are constantly ablaze about their necks.
Every alternate hour they are borne up to the firmament,
and the next hour they are dashed down into Hell's
profound. Now they that are punished in this wise are
the regulars who have transgressed their rute,^ and become
leathers of piety ; also, impostors who have deceived and
seduced the multitude, and have undertaken miracles and
wonders which they are not able to perform. Moreover,
the children that are tearing the men in orders, are ihey
who were committed to them for amendment, but they
amended them not, neither reproved them for their sins.

ag. Thereafter, is another vast company ; East and West
they go, unresting, across the fiery flagstones, at war with
demon hosts. Innumerable showers of red-hot arrows arc
rained upon them by the demons. Running, they go on
without stop or stay, making for a black lake and a black
river, that they may quench those arrows therein. A
weeping and wailing, truly miserable and piteous, do
the sinners make in those waters, for in them they only
meet with augmentation of their pain. Now they that
are punished thus are cheating artificers, weavers, and
merchants; judges that judged falsely, both Jews, and

llotA, so Windisch from Jioc; W. S. trans, 'wheels' from fat.
Ot, 'the ordained who have broken their vows.'

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 43
others likewise; impious kings, Erenachs of lewd and
crooked ways, adulterous women, and the panders that
destroyed them by their evil practices.

Beyond the land of torment is a fiery wall ; seven times
more horrible and cruel is it than the land of pain itself.
Howbeit, no soul dwells therein till Judgment, but it is the
province of the demons only, until the Day of Judgment

30. At that time, woe unto him that shall dwell amid
those pains, in company with the Devil's own tribe !
Woe unto him that is not ware of that tribe ! Woe
unto him over whom a vile and savage demon is set in
dominion ! Woe unto him that shall be hearkening unto
the spirits, making moan and complaining unto the Lord,
for the speedy coming of the Day of Judgment, that they
may know whether they shall find any remission of their
doom; for they get no respite ever, save only for three
hours on every Sunday. Woe imto him unto whom that
land shall be for a lasting inheritance, even for ever and
ever ! For this is the nature of it : Mountains, caverns,
and thorny brakes ; plains, bare and parched, with stagnant,
serpent-haunted lochs. The soil is rough and sandy, very
rugged, icebound. Broad fiery flagstones bestrew-the plain.
Great seas are there, with horrible abysses, wherein is the
Devil's constant habitation and abiding-place. Four mighty
rivers cross the middle of it : a river of fire, a nver of snow,
a river of poison, a river of black, murky water. In these
wallow eager hosts of demons, after making their holiday
and their delight in tormenting the souls.

1

44 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

31. What time the holy companies of the Heavenly
Host are singing the eight hours with harmonious melody,
praising the Lord with cheerfulness and great gladness,
then do the souls of the wicked utter piteous and weary
wailings, as they are buffeted unceasingly by the demon
hordes.

Such then are the pains and torments which his guardian
angel revealed to the spirit of Adamnttn, after his journey
towards the Heavenly Kingdom. After which he was
borne in the twinkling of an eye through the golden
forecourt,^ and through the crystal veil, to the Land of
Saints, whereunto he had been brought at first, after his
departure from the body. But when he bethought him
to rest and tarry in that land, he heard, through the veil,
the angel's voice enjoining him to return again into that
body whence he had departed, and to rehearse in courts
and assemblies, and in the great congregations of laymen
and of clerics, the rewards of Heaven and the pains of
Hell, even as his guardian angel had revealed them
unto him.

32. This, then, was the doctrine that Adamnin con-
tinually taught to the congregations, from that time forth,
so long as he remained in life. This, too, is what he
preached in the great assemblies of the men of Eire,*
wherein the Constitution of Adamnan was imposed upon

which, Mr. Whitley Stoites says,
the Iiieh ecclesiBSlical writers as equivalent
Horthex. See notes l and 2 to Ch. 13, atitt.
» Cp. ante. Sec 2.

the Greek p,

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 45

the Gaels, and the women were emancipated by Adatnniln
and by Finnachta Fledach,^ King of Eire, and the princes
of ifeire, of one accord. Such, too, were the tidings which
Patrick, son of Calpumius, at the Gospel-dawn, was ever
wont to proclaim — to wit, the rewards of Heaven and the
pains of Hell^to all them that would believe in the Lord,
through his teaching, and would accept his guidance of
their souls.' That, too, is the doctrine most constantly
taught by Peter and Paul, and the [other] apostles likewise,
to wit, the enumeration of the rewards and pains which
had been revealed to them in like manner. And so did
Silvester, Abbot of Rome, teach Constantine, son of Helen,
High King of the World, in the General Synod when he
offered Rome to Paul and to Peter.* Even so did Fabian,
successor to Peter, teach Philip, son of Gordian, the King

' The Mfirdiil at which these laws were passed was apparently held
in the jear G97, while Finnachta Fledach had been assassinated in
695. This anachronism affords yet Turther evidence of the compaia-
lively late composition of our version of the Vision.

* diTimfaiiniine, 'soul-friendship'; anmiAjid, 'soul-friend,' is the
Irish name for a father-confessor.

' Professor Bryce considers that the first extant mention of the
Donation of Constantine is contained in the letter of Pope Hadrian 1.
to Charlemagne, dated A.D. 777 {Holy Roman Empire, ch. vii. p. 112
note, 4lh ed.). If so, the allusion is couched in very general and
obscure terras. Diillinger, who dales the letter in question 775, holds
tliat it refers not to what is commonly understood by the Donation of
Constantine, but to gifts of land in vaiious parts of Italy, afterwards
seized by the Lombards, The foi^ery of the Donation would appear
lo be later than 750, but prior to 774, as it refers to the slate of things
eiUling before the lirst Prankish setllement in Italy, which took place
in 774. In any ease, it is later than the time of Adamuiln,

\

«< AS IKISH PKECUKSOK OF DANTE

tt Knar, ^« M* y he Idnoi ia Ac I4h4, and wmaj

rtiiiiiiiiililiii'ili liiliiiiiliifta liiM* Krknsdie
fiat Kkc cT Sow: Am kfaid ■ Ike Snioo^ Jesas

«9e vc dK tiA^BI vldck E&b ded&res coo-
tW: «di cT Ae i Je Ncw^ . m^er die Tree of
XjSe, tAith » m fxaSac So sooo ss EHas opens his
book in order to ■■—■■" the Sfmia, die souls of the
ri^iteoiH. ID fann cf bt^fal wbite fatrds, icpair to him from
eway tide. Theo he idk tfaem, fii^ of the irages of the
ligbteotu^ the jo^ and deficits of the Heavenly Realm,
and ri^it gUd diereit are all tbe throng. Aflei th&t he
tdk them of ibe psins and tonoents of Hell, and the woes
of Doomsday ; and easy it is to mark the look of soirow
that ii upon bis lace, and apoo the face of Enoch; and
these arc the two sorrows of the Heavenly Kingdom, Then
Elioi ihuts hU book, and thereupon the birds make eicceed-
ing great lamentation, straining their wings against their
bodies till strcami of blood issue from them, in dismay of
Ihe wow of HcU and of the Day of Doom.

34. Now, Kcing that they who make this moan are the

Sainu to whom have been allotted everlasting mansions in

the HgsTcnly Realm, how much more fitting were it for the

awn tlul are yd on earth to ponder, even with tears of blood,

e Judgment Day, and upon the pains of HeU. For

i«d*4 lo CionlUn 111. in 314, bal was doI his son,
II* lavnuttil tht Chriitiuu, and concspondetl wiib
t*|H>it. counlnuDccil by Eu^ebios, that he had
luti ^|| IhU Ihcte la no imhoritj.

TRANSLATION OF FIS ADAMNAIN 47
at that time will the Lord render due recompense to every
one on earth ; that is to say, rewards to ihe righteous, and
punishments to the guilty. And at that very lime shall the
guilty be set in the abyss of everlasting pain, and the book
of the Word of God shall then be closed, under the curse
of the Judge of Doom, for ever. But the saints and the
righteous, the charitable and the merciful, shall be borne
to the right hand of God, to a lasting habitation in the
Kingdom of Heaven, there to abide without age or death,
end or term, for ever and ever.

35. This, then, is the manner of that City ; A Kingdom
without pride, or vanity, or falsehood, or outrage, or deceit,
or pretence,' or blushing, or shame, or reproach, or insult,
or envy, or arrogance, or pestilence, or disease, or poverty, or
nakedness, or death, or extinction, or hail, or snow, or wind,
or rain, or din, or thunder, or darkness, or cold, — a noble,
admirable, ethereal realm, endowed with the wisdom,^ and
radiance, and fragrance of a plenteous land, wherein is the
enjoyment of every excellence.

FI N IT — A MEN — Fi N IT.

■ Ciitled, so W. S.

^ Suci. So Windisch, though W. S. trans. ' fmitfiilnesa (?). '

%

I. The Classical Tradition

The legend which forms the ground-plan of the Vision of
Adamniin and of the Commedia of Dante, can claim a pedi-
gree of great antiquity that may be traced back along several
widely divergent lines. The principal of these may be
grouped roughly under the heads of the Classical Tradition,
the Eastern Tradition, the Ecclesiastical Tradition, resulting
from the fusion in the early Christian Church of Hellenic and
Oriental schools of thought; and the Irish Tradition, which
last does not so much represent an entirely independent
growth of the legend, as a new departure, whereby the
Ecclesiastical Tradition, transplanted to Ireland, and there
coming into contact with certain cognate ideas which were
prominent in the native mythology and romantic literature,
acquired a fresh development, and reappeared in several
forms which became the most popular exponents of the
medieval theories of the Otherworld, until the revival of
classical learning, in the twelfth and following centuries,
enabled Dante to carry the leading idea, common to all
forms alike, to its culmination.

The Classical Tradition was preserved in the Middle
Ages chiefly through the sixth book of Virgil's ^neid,
which relates the visit of ^neas to Hades ; but this episode

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 49

was itself suggested by itie similar adventure of Odysseus,
told in the eleventh book of the Odyssey. The fundamental
conception, a visit paid to the Otherworld by a living man,
appears in many of the Greek myths : e.g. in the journey to
Hades of Demeter, in the course of her search after her
daughter Persephone, stolen away by Pluto ; of Orpheus in
quest of Eurydice; of Theseus and Peirithoos in their
attempt to abduct Persephone ; of Herakles, Castor and
Pollux, and others. Like most of the myths that have con-
trived to 'make their fortune' by virtue of their strong
appeal to the human imagination, these legends, when the
myth-making age had long departed from the Hellenic
peoples, and the age of creative imagination had given
place to one of literary culture, passed into the domain of
literature pure and simple. As such they entered upon a
new life in the writings of the Latin authors ; for even in
Virgil the literary aspect of the legend predominates, though
not to the exclusion of its more serious elements. This
merely literary character is yet more ajiparent in the treat-
ment of the legend by the tragic poets, and by Lucan and
Claudian, while Apuleius, the Perrault of antiquity, found
in it a theme for the play of his graceful fancy.

The early descriptions of the Otherworld, being originaily
myths of spontaneous growth, and not composed to be
the vehicles of instruction or edification, contain little of
eschatological or ethical significance,' the few stock examples
which they give of the penalties attached to guilt being

' Mr. Alfred Null, in his Essay on the Irish Vision of ike Bafpy
OIktrmorld and the Celtic Docirine of Rebirth, appended to Prof.
Kuno Meyer's Visage ef Bran, San a/Febal, 1895-7, points out that in
Greece and Ireland alone of Aryan nations the Elysium legend existed
devoid of any eschatoloEical helief (i. 329).

50 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

rather instances of the private vengeance of Zeus upon
those who had rebelled against him, or had outraged the
dignity of some member of the divine family of which he
was the head, Tn these accounts the abode of the departed
appears as a dreary region, wherein they lead a shadowy
and undesirable existence ;' and although, side by side
with this conception, another theory subsisted, assigning to
the happy dead a serene existence in the Elysian plain, or
in the enchanted isle of Leuke, this belief did not go
beyond the notion, vaguely, however beautifully, expressed,
of a bright and happy region of perpetual calm, where death
or decay or care was unknown, and the departed spirits
dwelt in flowery and fragrant meadows, beneath blossoming
trees, beside calm seas or smoothly flowing streams, while
soft breezes were perpetually blowing. The Greek poets,
from Homer downwards, contain innumerable references
to this Elysium,- but although we sometimes find a hint,
as in Pindar and some of the tragic poets, that these joys
are reserved for those who have deserved them by a
righteous life on earth, the later instances show scarcely
any advance upon the earlier in the direction of a systematic
eschatology, and consequently brought the Vision legend
little, if any, further on its way.*

' See Odyssey, xi. 36 sqq. j 223, 391 Sijq. ; 488 sqq. This gloomy
impression is little niiligated by mention of the ' Asphodel ian meadow'
ill which the dead reside \0d. xi. 539 ; iiiv, 13).

^ See, in particulai. Homer, Odyssly, iv. 563 ; Hesiod, Warts and

Days, 110, 166; Pinditr, Olympiad, ii. 68, lao, which last, perhaps,

■ IS the most finished picture of the Elysium drawn by the earlier

' It would be possible to cull from the Greek writers a great wealth
of allusions to Ihc Ollierworld ; not only, however, do exigencies of
ipice forbid this, but tbey are hardly pertinent to the present subject,

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 5.

Our legend, however, received fuller development in
another school of Hellenic thought. Simultaneously with
the mythology of the Greeks, and on one side distinct from
it, though on the other side closely connected with it,
existed a tradition of a more essentially religious character ;
rdigion being distinguished from philosophical speculation
on the one hand, and myth and legend on the other.
Hence, apparently, proceeded the Neo-platonising tendency
in Greek philosophy — to adopt the familiar and convenient
name, though the thing is older than the Neo-Platonists, or
than Plato himself — the tendency to regard the old myths
as a repository of the 'Wisdom of the Ancients,' and to
disengage from tiie husk of fable the moral and scientific
truths which it was supposed to contain. In so doing, the
philosophic schools were not merely attempting to read
their own notions into the traditions of antiquity, but were
also, to some extent, endeavouring to develop germs which
already existed in the best and most serious thought of
their own and earlier times. This side of the Hellenic
religion would appear to have existed in its purest and
most highly developed form in the Mysteries, especially
those practised at Eleusis, and at other places in which the
Eleusinian rites prevailed.

Most questions relating to the Greek mysteries, their place
of origin, the date of their introduction, the relation of one
school to another, the rites practised therein, and the nature
of the instruction imparted to the neophytes, have given
rise to many debates, and some of them can hardly yet be

for the reasons menliooed in the icxl, S(ill less need wc enler into
■he burteaquc desciiptions uf an OUietworld, conceived as a Land of
Cockayoe, several of which are preserved in fragmenta of the comu

i

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

I as entirely settled. Happily, our subject does
' not call for discussion of these contested points, all that we
e concerned with being the significance of the mysteries
to the spiritual life of Greece at the time of their highest
development. The general result of investigation would
seem to make it probable that the Greeks, from a very eady
period, practised certain rites in honour of Demeter, and
that these rites were connected with agriculture, and with
the means whereby the unseen powers presiding over it
might be rendered propitious. These rites, as in many
barbarous nations, were held to confer certain privileges
upon the participants, who could only obtain access thereto
by a secret initiation ; and when the ideas of death and
renovation, which arose naturally out of the subject, pro-
ceeded by an easy transition — partly by an inherent principle
of growth, and partly through the introduction of foreign
elements' — to questionings concerning man's fate after

' The Greeks themselves referred lo a foreign origin most of their
mystical rites, and the deities worshipped therein. No doubl it is
often the case that peoples who observe in foreign nations practices
akin to Chose existing among themselves, are apt to derive these from
the former j nevertheless it appears certain that while the cults which
formed the basis of the mysteries esisled, in a primitive form, in the
indigenous Greek religion, they received a great impetus, at several
distinct periods, through the importation of similar myths and rites
from abroad. Thus M. Paul Foucart [Reckcrches sur [origine ct la
nature dts Myslirei dEltusis, p. 75) accepts the Greek theory of the
Egyptisn origin of the Demeter cult and the Eieusinian riles at a date
prior to the eleventh century B.C. These rites, he assumes, were
purely agricultural at iirst, but at a later day (seventh century B.C.)
le associated with the doctrine of a future life (pp. 75-9). lie
ti holds that this doctrine was itself brought from Egypt by the
EphlliMophers, Pythagoras and others, who are reported by tradition to
~ E travelled thither for instruction (p. 83I. This lailer part of

' THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 53

death, the same rites were regarded as efficacious in
ameliorating his condition in the unseen world- At ihe
same time, as the doctrine of the effect of conduct upon
the future life gained ground, this side of the question
likewise came within the pun-iew of the mystical schools,
and an ethical as well as a Ihcurgic efRcacy was ascribed to
the initiation rite. This important step in advance would
appear to have been taken in the sixth century B.C. at
latest, when the theories of the Orphic- Pythagorean school
became widely diffused. M. Foucart, as we have seen
in the last note, holds that this movement was due to the
Egyptian researches carried on by the early Greek philo-
sophers in the course of their travels ; Rohde, on the
other hand, regards it as a strictly national movement, and
denies the late adoption of any alien faith of a highly
developed character. In any case, it is certain that the

M. Foucatl's theory presents certain difficnllics. The name of
Pythagoras is commooly associated with the Orphic myEteries, lo
which M. Foucatt denies any connection with Elensis, white the con-
ception of a future life which prevailed both in the Orphic and
Eleusinisn my&teries and in the teaching of Pythagoras, differed in
important points from the Egyptian doctrine, as will be pointed out
in a later p]a,ce. Professor Rohde likewise holds that white the
Dionysiac mysteries existed in Gieece in pte-Homeric times as a
minor and local cult, the Dionysos-Zagreus rites, which fonned Ihe
basis of the Orphic mysteries, were imported from Thrace at an early
dale; probably, Mr. Nutt suggests (ep. til., il. I4r), during the period
of change which followed upon the Dorian invasion. Tbraj;e, appar-
ently, derived the Zngreus myth from Phr^ia. Prof. Percy Gardner
{Cantemforary Rtviim, March 1S95) is abo inclined to accept the
Greek traditions as to the derivation of many of their mystical rites
and cults from Asiatic sources, differing herein from Prof. Dieterich,
who holds that these were native developments. For a discussion by
Mr, Alfred Nutt of these varions theories see op. cit., 1. ch. xt.

54 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

theories of which Pythagoras was the most famous exponent
assumed great prominence at this time. The leading
principle of these was the doctrine of the soul's rebirth on
earth, in another body, after undergoing a process of
purification in the Otherworld. It was one of the primary
objects of the mysteries to ensure that the soul's progress
through the intermediate state should be as easy, and the
conditions of its rebirth as favourable, as could be effected
by the due performance of the mystical rites ; and while
the great progress of ethics, which with the early philo-
sophers went hand and hand with philosophical speculation,
effected a fuller recognition of moral conduct in this life
as one of the means most conducive to the desired end,
preference was still given, even among the righteous, to
those who had undergone the initiation ceremony,^

Professor Gardner even traces the Hades theory from
the mystic rites (loc. cti.) ; probably this derivation would
only apply to that theory in its more fully developed form.
He holds that the Orphic cult ' occupies the background of
religious life' in Greece ; that it was an enthusiastic type of
religion, and capable of ready association with the ideals
of such moral and political revivalists as Pythagoras and
Empedocles. According to this authority, there were two
foci of the Orphic cult: at Eleusis, and in the rites of
Dionysos. M. Foucart, it will be remembered, denies any
connection between Eleusis and the Orphic mysteries ; in
which contention he would appear to be supported by

^ The best authoitties appear to be agreed that (here are no grounds
for the Yiews once held tbit ihe mysteries contained eithei some esoteric
creed of a religion purer than that held by the multitude, and jealously
guarded from the latter, or, according to olheis, a system of occult
philosophy or theosopby.

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION

SS

Plato, who speaks slightingly of the latter, while several
passages in his writings testify to his respect for the
mysteries of Eleusis. Certainly the two were respectively
connected, originally, with the worship of two separate and
widely different divinities, although, hoth having to do with
the earth as the source and the renewer of iife, they soon
tended towards certain common developments. Perhaps
we may not greatly err if we assume that the Orphic
mysteries, in their most perfected form, were more especially
concerned with the orgiastic ritual and with the doctrine of
reincarnation, now reduced to a philosophical system, while
in the EleusinJan school ritual hecame more closely con-
nected with personal morality, thus assuming an aspect
more strictly 'religious,' in the modem sense of the
word,

M. Foucart, indeed, holds that the instruction imparted
in the Eleusinian mysteries was essentt'ellemeni pratique ;
tlU avail pour objet de metire I'komme en hat de se ttrer
d'affaire lorsquil arrivait dans la dtmeure d' Hades {op. cil.,
p. 63). By ' practical ' M. Foucart would appear to refer
exclusively to those automatic or quasi-mechanical effects
which are supposed, all the world over, to result from the
due performance of certain rites. However, the testimony
of the Greeks themselves, as appears from the examples
ahout to be cited in connection with our own subject, and
from other evidences that have come down to us, appears
to be conclusive as to the value attributed to the Eleusinian
mysteries, at any rate, as an agent of moral reformation.
Sir W. M. Ramsay 1 distinguishes between the mysteries
which had in view the proficiency and advancement of
' See his article, ' Mysleriei,' in the Emydofadia Britatmica

\

56 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

morals, and the mysteries which were of an exclusively
ritual and orgiastic nature, associating the former kind
with Eleusis, and places where kindred rites were celebrated.
In support of this contention, he cites a number of passages
occurring in Greek writers from the fourth century B.C.
onwards, whence it plainly appears that the Greeks regarded
a moral regeneration as a natural concomitant of initiation
into the mysteries, and even as a condition of happiness in
the future life.*

It is in connection with the mysteries, as representing
the moral and spiritual side of the Greek religion, whence-
soever derived, that the Vision legend becomes impressed
with an epideictic character and develops those elements
which had barely existed in germ in the popular mythology.

In the Dialogues of Plato, the legend already appears as
a vehicle of religious instruction. Plato, indeed, merely
gives literary form to theories which had existed for at least
two centuries before his time, but as he is the first to
employ the Vision legend in this connection, and as ic is in
his hands that it first assumes its final type, essentially
identical with that of its successors in the Christian Church,
it is convenient to make him a point of departure.

In the tenth book of his Republic {pp. 614 igq^ Plato
records the narrative of one Er, an Armenian, concerning
his experiences in the world of spirits. This Er had been
killed in battle, and brought away with the rest of the
slain, but was restored to life. His soul, upon issuing
from the body, had been conveyed to a certain spiritual

' Sir W. M. Ramsay further mentions a Rhodian inscription of the
fifth century B.C., which required the candidates for initialion at the
temple of Lindus lo bring a pure heart and a conscience free from

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION

57

(Satfioviov) place, where there were two openings leading
down below the earth, and two others leading up into
heaven, over against one another. Between these open-
ings judges were stationed, who dismissed the souls of the
righteous to heaven by the upper and right-hand way,
having first impressed upon their foreheads the decree of
absolution, and despatched the wicked downward by the
left-hand path, branded behind with the record of their
misdeeds. The judges commanded Er to see and hear all
that passed, that he might become the messenger of it all
lo mankind. The souls of the departed, after a progress
lasting a thousand years, returned by the second openings
frorn the celestial and subterranean regions respecrively.
The return of the one company was marked by joy and
gladness, by reason of the delights which they had enjoyed,
and the spectacles of inconceivable beauty through which
they had passed, in the course of their heavenly journey ;
they then entered for a while into a smiling meadow, there
to hold converse with others of the just, both those whom
they had known while in the body, and others whom they
then met for the first time, The other company appeared
ail parched and dusty from their journey, weeping and
dismayed at the remembrance of all they had seen and
suffered during their passage beneath the earth, for there
each sinner was requited tenfold for all the crimes that he
had committed. Among these guilty ones, special mention
is made of homicides : of those who had betrayed cities or
armies, and brought them into captivity ; of those who had
committed impiety towards the gods, or inflicted violence
upon their parents ; all of whom were singled out for
eximious penalties. Some indeed, such as bloody tyrants,
and certain private persons who were stained with enormous

5S AN lEISH PRECUKSOK OF DAKTE

cnaci, loct AoricttBii osiitff j ihae n

Of TJlrt VinfcT£_ fire^Killnd bob, f

beaieo dom and tajtd, cvdedmlk c

finaOj cut dom nto TnUnK. VHth the goqitiow,

however, of Aii bst iohI wont dm <tf '■"—■'"'«. tbe

p uu M hM OOaPonedioaHwCTefaMofl c^ w roTdnrarinn ,

sndtbe'KNili of a (^ ' catered iqian 'anoAcr period of

mortal, detfli^aa^ cna e noe' noder cooditiaDS inpowd

bf 'the Dndnie^ <t«iigii«T^^ </ Hecesaqr.'

Thii apcowat agrees in [vincqafe, though not in detail,
with fimb, p. 14. In the Jt^drms, Plato speaks of tlie
Etemiinan mysteries as ■ means of salvation, and that,
appateatij, bj means of tbe rdbrroation eSccted duot^ a
oondoitioas adberence to tbe instmctkMis diere imparted
to the ""''p''*! rather than by any tfasmnatnr^c virtties
iDhcrent id tbe rites tbemsdves ; the true mystics, in his
eyes, being those whom he tams, in the passage of die
Phado cited above, ot ^Xovo^ifi icawt «iiA)/>aper»i.

In tbe Axiochei, a dialc^ue once ascribed to Plato, bat
written since his time, Socrates is made to describe the
abode of the rigbteaos as a coantry of floirery meadows
beside clear streams, and full of fruit-bearing trees. The
tight is full and radiant, tbe air soft and pleasant, free from
extremes of heat and cold. Fit places are provided for
philosophical discourse, and there are theatres where poets
may recite their vuses. The most honoorable place is
allotted to the initiated, who celebrate the sacred mysteries.
This description, which exhibits a naive adaptation of the
t primitJTe Elysium to tbe intellectual requirements of
a b^lfaly civilised society, is interesting merely as affording
additional evidence as to tbe Athenian belief conconing tbe
rrwards of the righteous in a future life, and tbe intimate

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION

59

connection between initiation into the mysteries, righteous-
ness of life, and bliss in the life to come.

In this connection, perhaps, we ought Dot to pass over
the Hades journey of Dionysos, as portrayed in the J^rogs
of Aristophanes, for, burlesque as it is, it repeatedly
expresses views concerning the Other wo rid coinciding
closely, in substance, with the description contained in
Plato's Vision of Er, The Fr/>gs being prior in date to the
Republic, this coincidence affords an independent testimony
to the representative character of Plato's eschatological
theories, the more so as Aristophanes, in his comedy,
would naturally treat his subject in a form that he knew to
be familiar to the audience. In this play, reference is
made to a true Inferno for punishment of the graver sins.
In 11. i4S-i5r, Herakles affirms that they who had violated
the laws of hospitality, beaten their mother, smitten their
father on the cheek, perjured themselves, etc. etc., are
condemned to wallow in a morass of mud and ordure, like
the wrathful, the gloomy-minded, and the flatterers, whom
Dante consigns to a similar doom in Cantos 7 and 18 of
the Inferno?- On the other hand, ' happy bands of men
and women' inhabit myrtle groves, 'in the midst of fairest
light' (11. 155-7). in 'he dingles of well-flowering meadows
(347-8), and fields blooming with roses (448-9), in the
enjoyment of dance and song and feast (369 sqq.). These
are they who have been initiated into the mysteries (1. 158);

' This may possibly represent the conception originally prevailing
ia the mystic schools concerning the futuic life of mankind in general.
(Sec Mr. Nutt hereon, op. cit. , i. 256. ) If so, redemption from such a
lot would be one of the most important objects to be compassed by
the theurgic effects of initiation, until the growth of moral ideas in
with the mysteries converted this ' place of filth and gloom '
:e of punishment for the wicked.

6o AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

nor does this imply a merely ritual initiation, as may not
only be inferred from a comparison with the passages from
Plato, quoted above, and with the testimonies to the like
effect cited by Sir W. M. Ramsay, but, fiirlher, appears

from the words of the beatified mystics themselves : ' For
us alone the sun shines, and the light is cheerful ; for us,
who are initiate, and have followed the way of righteous-
ness in all our dealings, alike with strangers and with our
own folk ' (11. 454-9}.

Four centuries later, Plutarch takes up the tale. His
treatise 'On the tardy vengeance of God' describes the
vision of one Soleus, similar in character to that of Plato's
Er, but, in many of its circumstances, approximating far
more closely to the Christian visions. This Soleus had
led a life of extreme wickedness, stained with all manner
of vice and debauchery ; he had been violent, unjust, and
fraudulent in his dealings, and had squandered his patri-
mony by his extravagance. Beginning, it would seem, to
realise his condition, he sent to the oracle of Amphilochus
to inquire whether the remainder of his life should he
better than the earlier part : the oracle replied that it
should be better with him after his death. Sometime
after this he fell down a precipice, and was taken up for
dead; but three days later, having been carried out for
burial, he came to himself just as he was being lowered
into the grave, and sat up. Thenceforth he became a
reformed character, and the remainder of his life was as
exemplary for virtue as the earlier part had been for
wickedness. He explained the reason of this conversion to
his friends, by the story of his experiences during his tem-
porary demise. His first sensation was as of a steersman
swept into the sea by a sudden squall. Upon emerging.

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 6i

he could discern, at first, nothing but stars of great
magnitude, and very far apart, emitting radiant beams,
upon which the sou! rode as though in a chariot. Looking
downward, he descried litde fiery bubbles rising through
the yielding air, which, bursting, released aerial forms of
men and women, some of which mounted straight upward,
with great velocity, while others whirled and span rapidly
about in all directions. Among these latter he recognised
several of his acquaintance, and tried to accost them, but
they all avoided him. He was more successful with those
spirits who mounted upright, among whom he recognised
a kinsman who had died young. This spirit saluted him
by the name of Thespesios, or Divine, saying that he must
have come thither by order of the gods, seeing that he
was manifestly aiive, for the spirits of the dead neither cast
shadows not open and shut their eyelids. ^ Under his
kinsman's guidance, Thespesios noted the various kinds
of souls, and observed that while ail were of transparent
substance, some emitted a pure untroubled bght, 'like the
full moon in her greatest resplendence,' others being
marked with long streaks, and others, again, repulsive
with black splotches, hke those on the skins of vipers.
His guide accounted for this diversity by expounding the
laws which regulate the condition of departed spirits.
Adrasteia, daughter of Zeus and Necessity, was charged
with a general superintendence over the punishments
awarded to the guilty, and none of any rank or kind might

' In like minner, the spiritE were amazed lo see thai Danle's bod;
cast a shadow, as the souls of (he dead did not (Purg., iii. SS sq.), and
that he breathed {ib., ii. 67-9). Accuidinj; to the old Persian belief,
the iouls of (he lieatified dead were to east no shadows. See Sec. a.

6i AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

escape ber vengeance ; but guilt is of various degrees, so
Adrasteia deputed the chastisement of offences, after their
several kinds, to three Furies, or avenging spirits. The
first of these, Poine, is the minister of temporal penalties,
whereby minor sinners are purged of their guill by their
sufferings in this life. Those whose guilt is not to be
pulled so easily are delivered over, after death, to Dike,
or avenging Justice, to be chastened in manner after
described ; while the absolutely incurable are abandoned
to Erinnys, who, after pursuing them in their unavailing
flight through countless torments, plunges them, at last,
into an abyss of unspeakable horror. The souls which
Dike takes in hand she first exposes naked to the gaze of
their kin, in order, if these were virtuous, that the guilty
soul may be stricken with the greater shame, or, if they
too had been wicked, that their mutual remorse may be
augmented by the sight of one another's disgrace and
sufferings. She then afflicts them with sufferings 'as far
surpassing in sharpness and severity all torments of the
body, as reality stu^asses an empty dream.' These
punishments leave upon the soul stripes and scars which
correspond to the gravity of the offences, and gradually
disappear as the soul recovers its proper temperament ;
though certain souls, incapable of thorough reformation,
are compelled to complete their expiation by inhabiting the
bodies of brutes for a term. After this, the spirit conveyed
Thespesios across a vast expanse over which he was borne
upon a ray of light, as easily and swiftly as though upborne
by an eagle, until became Co a yawning, unfathomable chasm.
Here the force which had hitherto sustained him failed ;
his further course was stayed, and he, and several others
in like case, were left hovering about the mouth of the

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 63

cavern, like birds that desired to enter in, but dared not
The interior of the chasm was all green with trees and
grass, and adorned with flowers of every hue, which
emitted a fragrance sweeter than is the fragrance of wine
to them that love it, and amid all these dwelt the souls of
the blest in the utmost mirth and good fellowship. Ere
long, Thespesios was carried hence and brought to the
place of punishment, and among the guilty he recognised
certain of his own kin. Here his kindly spirit guide
quitted him, and he was taken In charge by several grisly
sprites, who thrust him forward and made him observe
the torments that were inl^icted on the wicked. In the
enumeration of these, a quite Dantesque intention 'to
make the punishment fit the crime' is apparent. For
instance, certain who had cloaked a vicious life with fine
professions were turned inside out, and compelled to
wriggle onward in this guise: hypocrites were flayed and
gashed, so as to reveal their inner nature ; deadly enemies
were twined together, and gnawed one another, as Ugolino
gnawed the Archbishop of Pisa in the Inferno. Further-
more, there were three lakes — one of molten gold, one of
lead, exceeding cold, and one of iron ; demons armed
with tongs, like smiths, plunged the souls of the avaricious
into the lake of molten gold until they were heated
through and through; then into the leaden lake until
they were congealed like hail ; and, finally, into the iron
lake, where they were broken to pieces ; after which they
were reintegrated, for a repetition of their punishment.
But most wretched was the case of them whose crimes
had communicated a taint to their posterity; for when
they deemed that the Divine justice had wrought its
utmost upon ihem, they were met by the scarred and

64 AM IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

distorted souls of their descendants, who, when their
parents in grief and shame tried to shirk away from
them, would seize and cling to them, sometimes, evea in
clusters like bees or bats, and would hale them back to
renewed torments. Finally, the souls who were destined
to return to earth in other bodies were wrought and forged
like iron to fit them for their new slate.

Plutarch's eschatology displays more system than is to
be found in his predecessors, or even in many of tbe
Christian visions; however, neither by Plutarch nor by
Plato is the doctrine of the metempsychosis made to fit
in quite perfectly with that of a state of eternal rewards
and punishments which co-esists with it. Moreover, the
purgatorial scheme, though highly elaborated, is conceived
entirely with reference to the preparation of the sou! for a
renewed existence upon earth.

In following up the Greek development of the Vision
legend to its completest exposition in Plutarch, we have
passed by the Latin contributions to the subject, earlier
than the Vision of Thespesios in point of date, though not
in manner of treatment. A generation before the birth of
Virgil, Cicero, in his Somnium Scipionis, had utilised the
Vision as a vehicle of instruction ; he, however, took
natural philosophy for his theme, not eschatology,

Virgil, indeed, alone of Roman writers, made any con-
tribution of real importance to the development of the
Vision legend in literature, though that contribution is the
flower and consummation of the legend as it appears in
the purely classical tradition. For Virgil, saturated with
the Hellenic culture, while remaining intensely Roman in
his political views and national sentiment, remains free
from any tincture of Oriental ideas. Earlier than Plutarch

THE CLASSICAL TRADITION 65

by more than a century, his treatmenl of ihe subject is
more modern in style and spirit, although, in his picturea '
of the other world, he repeats and combines the ideas
which the ancients had held concerning it. His topography
of the other world and of the approaches thereto agrees
so closely with the humorous account in the Frogs of
Aristophanes, which, evidently, he has no intention of
copying, as to maice it clear that both poets followed, in
the main, a generally accepted tradition. So, too, in his
descriptions of the Elysian Fields and of Tartarus, Virgil
simply reproduces in substance the many similar descrip-
tions which occur in the Greek poets and philosophers;
and although he perfects these with many exquisite touches
of his own, such original contributions of his belong rather
to the domain of art than of eschatoiogy. To take one
instance, his enumeration of those righteous ones who are
admitted to the seats of the blest, including, as it does,

1 excoluere per artes,

lios fecere merendo {Aen. vi, 663-4),

could only have been written in an age of self-coDscious

culture.

In his eschatoiogy he is no less conservative than in his
descriptions; witness the judgment of the dead by Minos
(431 sqq.) and Rhadamanthus (567-9); the Fate of the
Giants (5S0 sqq.), and other great offenders against the
persons of the gods (601 sqq^, etc. etc. Like Plutarch,
he inflicts heavier penalties upon those who have not
expiated their guilt in this life (569)- Moreover, he
adopts, without being able to reconcile, the two conflicting
theories held by his Grecian predecessors, and succeeds no
better than Plato and his followers in fusing into a con-

Quique s;

66 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

sistent scheme the theory of perpetual rewards and punish-
ments, and the collateral theory of the metempsychosis.
In his treatment of the whole subject he betrays the
influence of several of the later schools of Greek philo-
sophy, and appears as a disciple of the Pythagoreans and
Stoics as well as of Plato. At the same time, he displays
his modernity alike in this eclectic and combining method,
and in his general design, which is mainly artistic and
literary; the Vision legend is not introduced with any
hortatory or epideictic purpose, but, as in the earlier epic,
forms merely a part of the general machinery of the poem,
the several pictures and descriptive incidents of the Other-
world serving as frescoes and statues and gargoyles to
adorn the main body of the edifice. An instance of this
occurs in the picturesque grouping of the monsters and
personified abstractions about the gates of Hades (Aen. vi.
z 73-294), which is conceived in a purely artistic spirit,
no less than similar descriptions in Ariosio, Spenser,
and Milton — we might almost add the Rape of the Lock.
The same may be said of the City of Dis (548 s^^.). In
such passages as these, Virgil indulges the Roman love
of classification which appears in that tendency of the
national religion to apportion all phases of nature and
humanity among countless 'departmental deities," ridiculed
by several of the early Christian fathers, and notably by
St. Augustine.^

In short, Virgil pressed into his service ideas, beliefs,
and speculations drawn alike from the popular creeds
and traditions, and from the philosophers of his own and
earlier times. These he blended with consummate art
into one harmonious whole, uniting antiquity of matter
' See Books iv. and vi. of his lie Ci-vitale Dei.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

67

with modernity of treatment ; and this completeness, aided
by the combination of circumstances which led him to be
regarded, in after times, as at once the epitome and the
consummation of the Wisdom of the Ancients, and as,
moreover, the divinely inspired herald of the coming transi-
tion from Paganism to Christianity, fitted him, at a time
when the higher achievements of the human intellect had
to be sought in classical antiquity, to become the duce,
maeifro, gttida, that Dante found in him.

2, The Oriental Tradition
To Dante, Virgil appeared as the saccr vales in every
sense of the term. As a poet, he towered above all other
masters of the craft with whom Dante was acquainted ;
the testimony of ages had concurred in pronouncing him
to be the repository and the exponent of the wisdom and
learning of the ancient world, the only secular wisdom and
learning to which the Middle Ages could turn for instruc-
tion and guidance. His fourth Eclogue had led the
Church to acclaim him as one of those pagan seers to
whom, jointly with the Sibyls, a share in the preparation
for the Gospel had been committed by Divine appoint-
ment, while the sixth Aeneid directly associated him with
the Sibyls themselves; finally, his great poem expressed
the very spirit of that Roman Empire, of which the theory
at least constituted the basis and framework of the ecclesi-
astical and civil polity of Christendom.

However, the task which Dante had set himself was
nothing less, according to his own affirmation,^ than to

' See Dante's Tenth Epistle, addressed to Can Grande della Scala,
Oxford Dantt, pp. 414 ij^.

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

expound the scheme of Divine Providence with respect to

I, in so far as by his merit or demerit, by virtue of
freewill, he is liable to remunerative or punitive Justice ' ; '
and by the moving picture of ' the condition of souls after
death,' ^ ' to withdraw those living in the present hfe from
the state of misery, and to conduct them unlo the state of
bliss.' ' Having no desire to innovate upon the accepted
beliefs, but rather to expound them in their utmost com-
pleteness, and in accordance with the fulness of knowledge,
he naturally, and necessarily, availed himself of the materials
preserved in Christian legend and popular tradition. These
materials, in great measure, were the product of a fusion in
the primitive Church of the speculations of the Hellenistic
schools with an abundant heritage of analogous concep-
tions, which had been bequeathed to it by the earlier
dispensation.

Long before the Christian era, a gradual process of
accretion had been going on within the Jewish Church.
In the days of their freedom, the people of Israel bad
addicted themselves but little to speculations concerning
the Otherworld; during the captivity, however, they had
come into contact with the richer mythology of the con-
quering nations, and after the return they fell under the
influence of the various schools of philosophy, whose
teaching, coloured with a Iheosophic tinge of continually
increasing depth, permeated Syria in common with all
other lands in which the Hcllenisdc culture prevailed.
These various influences combined to produce a more
spiritual type of religion, and a more elaborate eschatolc^y,
tluin had originally entered into the national faith of Israel.

' Of. c»f., p. 416, II. 173-5.

' Ib.,\. 169. W*,.p. 417, 1. z68.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

69

The legend of a Vision of the Otherworld, in the East
as in Hellas, had gradually developed from the most
primitive beginnings, the first appearance of it occurring at
a very early stage of popular tradition. The sacred books
of Assyria, which themselves embodied much of the
mythology of the earlier Accadian race, record the descent
into Hades of the goddess Ishtir, in quest of the waters
of life, and of the national hero Gisdubar, who, like
Odysseus and Aeneas, had gone thither seeking counsel
from the shades of his ancestors. The abodes of the
dead are approached through seven successive gates,
guarded by monsters, and at each sils a porter who strips
the souls that enter of some part of their raiment, until,
after passing the last gate, they enter the world of shades
as naked as when they came into the world they have just
left. Gisdubar, who had been conveyed to the regions of
the dead by a ferry, wherein we see the prototype of
Charon's boat, was met on his arrival by monsters, between
roan and scorpion in shape, who directed him to the
abode of the blest, situate 'at the mouth of the rivers.'
He accordingly reached a grove by the seashore, at the
estuary of a river, which was the Waters of Death. The
trees in this grove were laden with precious stones, and
guarded by two maidens, who shut the door against
Gisdubar, because he bore the marks of the Divine wrath
upon him. The Chaldean Elysium is described as a
mountain lying beneath a sky of silver, and bearing crops
without need of tillage. Here the souls of heroes and
great men dwell for ever, reclining on couches, and drink-
ing the waters of life.' These waters are represented in

' Lenormanl, Origines dt CHistoirc, vol. ii., cited by Kagmin,
Chaldaa, p. 176, which work gives a compendious accoiinl of the

70 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the story of the descent of Ishtir as proceeding from under
a golden throne, set in the midst of Hades, whereon sat
the Spirits of Earth. In the grove of Eridu stood a Tree
of Life, which appears to have been a World Tree, like
Yggdrasil, and at the same time to have possessed the
property of restoring life and strength to the individual.
This tree was guarded by cherubim, whose heads were
like the heads of hawks or e^les. From this Elysium a
way led to Arali, the abode of the dead in general.

That abode is described as ' a gloomy realm beneath
the earth, wherein the spirits of the dead flit about in
darkness, with dust and mud for their food and drink.' ^
No hint is there of reward or punishment ; the same dreary
lot awaits the evil and the good alike so soon as they have
quitted the light of day. The only attempt at a differential
treatment is found in that aristocratic conception of
Elysium which provides a. place there for heroes and great
men alone; a conception which the ancient inhabitants
of Chaldjea shared with many races of very different type
and origin, including several of the peoples of Central
America and Polynesia, and, apparently, the early Aryans of
Europe, In fact, the whole Chaldiean theory of the future
life is very rudimentary, notwithstanding the great pro-
ficiency in several departments of culture to which the
Accadian and Assyrian races had attained.

The Median conquest of Assyria and Babylon introduced
the Hebrew exiles to the Zoroasttian religion, with its
mythology richer than any which the Semitic or Pre-

aubject. For fuller particulars see Sayce, Hibberl Lecturts, 1887,
Lectures iv. and v., and bis article 'Chaldaea' in the Emytlopadia
BrUanniea, ed. 9, vol. jii.

' Sayce, Hibbert Leclures, 1887, p. 364.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION 7'

Semitic races had evolved, and taught them an eschatokigy
more elaborate than their own. The Avesta inculcated
an ethic of high morahty, and taught a very systematic
theory of rewards and punishments in the future life. The
experiences of the soul after death are described with
great minuteness and copiousness of detail.

For three nights after death the soul sits by the head of
the body, and all this time, if a righteous soul, experiences
the consciousness of a delight as great as any that the whole
living world together are capable of enjoying. At the end
of this time it becomes aware of a sweet-scented wind
blowing from the south, and feels a pleasant sense of being
borne into a place of fragrant trees and verdure. The evil
sou!, on the contrary, experiences a corresponding amount
of misery during its vigil, at the close of which it is assailed
by a foul wind from the north. Its vigil ended, every soul,
good or bad, had to cross the narrow Chinvat Bridge {cinvala
pereiush, the 'Accountant's Bridge'), where good and evil
spirits struggled for possession of it, as did the angels and
devils for the soul of Goethe's Faust, and as Michael and
Satan contended for Moses, according to the tradition
referred to in the Book of Jude (ver. 9), On reaching the
bridge head, the soul of ' good thoughts, good deeds, good
words, and good religion ' was met by a lovely maiden, who
was his own conscience. By her he was conducted to the
place of Judgment,^ and there a book was opened wherein
had been kept a record of all the good and evil he had

' ' She makes the soul of (he righteous one go up above the Hara-
bereiaiti (Mount Elborz), above Ihe Klnvaij bridge she places it, in
the presence of the heavenly gods themselves.' — Vcudlddd, xix. 30 ; in
Darmcsletet's tianslation. Sacred Boats of Ihe East, iv. aig j and see
Ragozin, Atcdia, c. iv.

72

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

K knowledge on

wrought in life. Upon liis righteousness being admitted,
he was received with acclamation by the celestial powers,
and a place was allotted to him among their golden seats,'
The Avestan Elysium is described as a holy mountain, its
summit clothed with everlasting light, whither ' come neither
night nor darkness, no cold wind and no hot wind, no
deathful sickness, no uncleanness made by the Dafivas
[demons], and the clouds cannot reach up to it.' At the
foot of the mountain was a vast sea, a mar del esiere, in the
midst of which grew the White Haoraa (Indian Soma), the
Tree of Life. ' The waters stand there boiling, boiling up
in the heart of the sea Pflitika, and when cleansed therein
they run back from the sea PCiitika to the tree boura-kaika,
towards the well-watered tree, whereon grow the seeds of
my plants of every kind.' ' A godHke bird sits on that tree ;
when he flies off a thousand branches grow out of it, and
when he alights upon it he breaks off a thousand branches.*
Of this mystical bird, the Bundehesh, one of the later of
the sacred books, says, 'The bird Karshipta dwells in the
heavens; were he living on the earth, he would be the
king of birds. He brought the Religion into the Var of Yiina,
and recites the Avesta in the language of birds.' ^ With

' In the Avesta we meet with an idea which is prominent in Jewish
and Christian examples of the Vision legend. If, at the balance of
any soul's account, when his good and evil deeds were weighed one
against the other, the sciles weie equally poised, he was teserved for
the last Judgment in a place set aparl for his like.

> Vmdtdad, p. SS.

' Zflc. «■(., footnote.

* VendSdid, p, 20, note. A similar bird occurs frequently in the
Hindu mythology. The Accadian 'divine slorm-bird ' stole Ibe
lightning fiom heaven, and was thereby enabled to impart (o man Ibe
knowledge of lire, and of divination by lightning flashes. ^Sayce,^iifer/

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

73

this we may compare the angel described in Rev. xiv. 6 as
an angel di Dio, flying 'in the midst of Heaven, bearing
(he everlasting Gospel to preach unto them that dwell on
the earth.'

Distinct from the Elysium of the Gods, and from the ]
ibode of the dead, is Yima's Heaven of Light, a Vara, or
hortus condusus, which is a reduplication of the realm over
which he presided in the Golden Age, before this world
was created.^ The Vara was constructed by 'the fair
Yima, the good shepherd,' at the command of ' the Maker,
Ahura Mazda,' in view of the destruction that was to come
upon the material world, which had become corrupt, so
that he might preserve therein the seeds of men and all
other living beings, of plants, ' and of red blazing fires,' in
order that the earth might be replenished. Within this
Vara Yima made a reservoir, the banks of which furnished
an unfailing supply of food, and were the haunt of birds.
To this happy region, as we have seen, the mystical bird
Karshipta brought the Avesta, and preached it to the
denizens, whose life was one of perpetual mirth and gladness,
exempt from heat and co!d, sickness, old age, and death;
'and there [was] no hump-backed, nonebulgedforward, there;
no impotent, no lunatic ; no one malicious, no liar ; no one
spiteful, none jealous ; no one with decayed tooth, no
leprous to be pent up, nor any of the brands wherewith
Angra Mainya stamps the bodies of mortals.'^

Lutures, 1SS7, 293-4. The Babylonian Semites identified this bird
with their cultute-god Zu, who, in form of a bird, robbed the gods of
the ■ tablets of destiny ' (cp. cU., 295-7). All the world over, the part
of Prometheus has been pla.yed by a. supecnatuial bird, such as Yehl,
e,oftbeThlinkeet5; Pundgel, the eagle-hawk, of Australia, etc.
• VendSd&d, i\. 1516, "^ Op. cii., p. 17,

i

74 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

It is impossible not to be struck with the resemblasce
which this passage bears to chapter 35 of the ^f^<^fl»i«<i)«.
This resemblance must be purely accidental, but it is none
the less worthy to be noted; for there is reason to suspect
that a careful record of the similitudes and coincidences
which so frequently occur where imitation or direct deriva-
tion is impossible, might tend to discourage the arbitrary
assumption that derivation must needs exist, in cases where
it may be possible, but is not proved.

It will be noted that Yima's Vara is not represented in
the Vendid&d as the abode of the dead, or connected in any
way with the Otherworld; it there appears rather as a
Platonic ideal world, containing the forms, types, or ideas
after which the material world is to be created, or, rather,
restored. Yima, too, far from being one of the principal
gods, appears only as a subordinate Demioui^os, subject to
' the Maker,' Ahura Mazda. Hence it might seem to be
foreign to our subject ; in reality, however, it is not so.
However the legend may have been explained by later
philosophic speculations — probably under Greek influences,
as to which later — there is no doubt that in its original form
it was meant for a picture of the world of the happy dead.
Internal evidence of itself might convince us of this. The
whole conception of a supernatural country, inhabited by
human beings who lead a happy life amid conditions which
reproduce the present world, but under a brighter and
serener aspect — a country, moreover, which reproduces a
traditionary golden age — Is entirely in accord with the
familiar Elysium of the Aryan peoples, But more than
this, in the ancient Persian mythology Yima is identical
with the Indian Yama, the ruler of the departed, who
crossed the rivers, leading the fathers after him, and now

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

75

presides over the spirits of the dead in a land beyond the
sunset. Here, in a land of soft winds and cool rains,
traversed by perennial streams of milk and honey, and
illumined by unfailing light, he sits under the Tree of Life,
drinking the Soma (the Persian Haoma) from its branches,
and surrounded by the souls of the righteous, all whose
desires are there accomplished.

The Persian religion, in the stage at which it is preserved
in the Avesta, spiritualised much of the primitive Aryan
mythology, allegorising many of its deities into personifi-
cations of good and evil principles and qualities. This
notwithstanding, many of the more primitive elements of
the older religion were retained, and were reinforced with
a number of animistic beliefs derived from the Turanian
peoples; and when the Zoroasttian religion experienced that
process of corruption which commonly affects all ' Religions
of the Book,' in greater or less degree, these lower and
more ancient elements asserted themselves, so that the
practical side of the rehgion consisted in great measure of
Shamanistic practices designed to propitiate an innumer-
able host of good and evil spirits.^

The question how far the eschatological conceptions of
the later Judaism may have been affected by contact

' Speaking of [he efTecti; which the conquest of Babylon by the
Persians produced upon the religion ofthe latter. Professor Dill remarks:
' The conquerors, as so often happens, were to some exient subdued
by the vanquisbed. Syncretism set in ; the deities of the two races
were reconciled and identified. The magical arts and the astrolatiy
of the valley ofthe Euphrates imposed themselves on the purer MazdeoD
iaith and never released their hold, allhough they failed to check its
development as a moraJ system.' — Kcnian Sacitty from Nero le Marcus
Aurelius, 1904, p. 5S7, where the author cites CumoDt, Monumtnls
rclalifs au.x Myslira dt Mitkra, and Gasquet, Le cnlte dc Milhra.

i

76 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

with Zoroastrianism obviously depends, in great measure,
upon the date to be assigned to the first appearance in the
Persian religion of the foregoing theories concerning the
future hfe. The Avesta consists of several books of
different character and of different dates. Datmesteter'
holds that it was compiled, in its present form, during
the first and second centuries of our era, although a great
part of the material embodied was of much earlier date.
He further considers that the Zoroastrian belief received
its uhimate form under the influence of the schools of
Greek philosophy, with which the Persians were in close
contact in the centuries following the conquests of
Alexander, and more particularly, that the final redaction
of the Avesta was indebted for its more spiritual and
philosophic elements to 'Neo-Plalonism, that is to say,
that philosophic compound inspired by the spirit of
Plato, which permeated all the speculations of the
centuries before Christ, and long after, and which finds
its first and most influential exponent in PhiJo Judaius,
In Philo is found, as far as I know, the first exact parallel
to the Avestan doctrine,' etc. (p. Iv.).

The pronouncements of such a scholar as Darmesteter
upon any maltir of fad belonging tu a department of
learning of which he was so weighty an authority can
only be accepted by us without reserve. At the same
time, it may be permissible to consider how far the above
inferences are supported by the author's own arguments,
or rather, the extent to which those inferences may be held
to apply. It is certain that the Hellenic, or Hellenistic,
philosophies exercised great influence throughout the more
civilised parts of Asia during the existence of the
' VendtdSd, Introduction, sec. v.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

77

Alexandrian Empire, and for long after its dissolution.
It will be observed, however, that Darmesteter, while
assuming that the Avesta was moulded by those Platonic
doctrines 'which pervaded all the speculations of the
centuries before Christ,' goes on to say that this specula-
rion ' finds its first . . . exponent in Philo Judieus.' Now,
Philo Judfeus flourished in the middle of the first
century of our era, and the other most celebrated founders,
or rather precursors, of the Neo-PIatonic school were of
later date ; Plutarch of ChEcronea belonging to the latter
part of the same century, Numenius to the second
century a-d. If, then, 'in Philo is found ... the first
exact parallel to the Avestan doctrine,' it might conceiv-
ably be argued with regard to those parts, at any rate, of
the Avestan doctrine to which the author ascribes a Neo-
Platonic origin on the strength of their resemblance to the
systetn of Philo, that such resemblance should be ex-
plained by a quite opposite derivation theory.' The
further question also presents itself, whether the views
of Philo and his school obtained so rapid an acceptance
in the East, beyond the bounds of the Roman Empire, as
greatly to affect the substance of so ancient and important
a creed as ZoroastrJanism, as expounded in a recension of
the sacred books of that religion made almost immediately
after Philo's death, if not then actually in progress.

It is enough to suggest these questions, without
' The cult of Miihii, which, in the earlier ages of the Empire,
eilended not only over the Mediterranean littoifll, but throughout
all Europe eo fat as the Roman let;ioD5 went, even to Yorkshiie and
the forests of Pantionia, was full of sjrmholism, the meaning and even
the nomenclature of which are only to be ciplained by the Persian
religion, in which the cnlt originated, although it came to receive an
interpretation consonant with the Nco-riatonie theories,

78 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

attempting their solutioo ; we are only concerned to see
whether Darmesteter's theory, if correct, is incompatible
with the existence in the earlier form of the Avestan
religion of elements which may reasonably be presumed
to have affected the development of our legend through
Hebrew channels.

Darmesteter himself does not attempt to set up any hard
and fast theory on the subject. In his own words:
'Without pressing conclusions too hard as to facts and
dates, this much can be safely inferred . . . that
Platonic doctrines had found their way to Persia in the
first centuries of the Christian era ' {loc. at.). In particnlar,
he traces Platonic inSuences in the spiritual and allegorical
manner in which the creations of the old Aryan mythology
are dealt with in the Avesta, and in the prevalence of
a similar tone in the Avestaa cosmology. The most
notable instances of this mode of thought occur in the
Var of Yima, which is practically a Platonic world of
Ideas.i and in the Amesha Spentas, or Bountiful Im-
mortals, who, we are told, first assume the character in
which they now appear in the Avesta under the influence
of Neo-Platonic theories. -

' He foither suggests that Ibe oiigiiml notion of the Var as a place
of refuge for the seeds of things from a coming destcnction is borrowed
fnm the Judaic accooni of Noah. This would seem lo be a veif
strained inference from 3 slighc anatcigy. The Biblical account finds
mach closer parallels not onljinlhe Chaldxan Craditiocs, bat in the
Vedic accouoc of Manu and the Rishis b«iiig saved floni the dehigc
in an ark containing the seeds of things, not to speak of deluge
myths in the East and in the West, as [he Thlinkeets, the Natchez,
and other tribes of North Ameriea; the Mnjicas and Orinoco
oi Soath America ; the Samoans, Tahilans, etc
He assumes that Vohn Mino (Good Thought) is the Neo- Platonic

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

79 1

At the same time, Darmesteter points out that the I
ancient Achsmenian religion already possessed the I
fimdamenlal doctrine of the conflict belween the poweri |
of good and evil, and the final triumph of the good, and i
of those that had adhered to it. The duration of the
universe is already divided into four periods of 3000 years
each,^ in the last of which Ahriman was to be subdued,
and men were to 'live happily, needing no food, and
casting no shadow.' * He further states, as we have seen,
that the Avesta was compiled from various works of
different dales ; these would necessarily embody much
matter of older date than themselves —very much older,
we are warranted in believing, alike by the analogy of
other religions, and by the nature of many of the beliefs
preserved in the Avesta, In speaking of the books of which
the Avesta is composed, Darmesteter gives it as his opinion
that ' the Vendidad may be taken as the best specimen
of the text imbued with the pre- Alexandrian spirit';*

Logos, and if so, ihat the other Amesba Speotas are of post-
Aleiandiian developmcnl, and he goes on lo Ixnd parallels for Ihetn
loo in the rest of the seven emanations enumeratedby Philo. However,
even if the parallels are so close as to compel the conclusion
that the character and functions ascribed to the Amesha Spentas
in iheir latest form ate due to Neo-Plalonic influences— and even this
is not shown very convincingly — ^it by no means follows that the
veiy conception of the seven celestial powers is due to the same

' We have here, in Persia, an anticipation of the Neo-Plalonic
ions before the time of Plato himself— a conception which can
hardly be referred to the earlier theory of the kind propounded by

^ VendtdSd, Introduction, p. liv, and see p. UL For the dead
casting no shadow, cp. Plutarch's Vbioo of Thespesios.
• Cy. cit.,f. liv.

i

8o AN rRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

and k is precisely the Vendidid that contains the greater
part, diougb not all, of the doctrines cooceming the
Otherworld, of which an abstract has been given above.

We are thns warranted in assuming that the Persians
had dereloped a tolerably complete theory of the Other-
world, and of the rewards and punishments there meted
out in recompense for man's conduct in this life, at a date
early enough to infloence Hel»«w thought, before either
nation had come under Hellenic inSuences.

In some respects, Darmesttier's cortclosions eren E^vour
this presumption, foe if we can attribute lo Neo-Ptatonic
in6aences the ideal character which Yima's Vara bears in
the Vendld^ we can understand at how recent a date
the Vara came to be direOed of the character of an
Elysmm, or abode of the happy dead, such as is the
realm of Yama, of which, in other respects, it is so com-
plete a counterpart.

In this connection, it should also be noted that the
Avestan doctrine of the Otherworld gives no place to the
theory (rf Rebirth, which is a principal aitide of the
Platonic and Pythagorean schools, aud m^ht hare beoi
expected to occupy a prominent place in the Zoroastms
escfaatology, had this been moulded to any great extent by
Greek philosophy. In holding the finality of man's lot
after death, the Persian doctrine agrees with that of the
Jews, and, apparently, of the Chaldaeans.

However much, moreover, the elabcsate da^moiiic
system ccmtained in the Avesta may be indebted to Neo-
Platonism for its more s{Mrit[ial elements, it is neithm
certain nor probable that the substance of it can be
derived from the same source. The eschaiology of the
Avesta contains much that carmot be referred to Neo-

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION 8i

Platonic ideas, even if it must be admitted that these were
widely enough accepted, in a sufficiently systematised form,
at the date when the Avesta was completed, while many
parts of it exhibit both Indian and Chald^ean analogies. It
is enough, in this place, merely to refer to the Tree of Lile
and the Waters of Life, to both of which Indian, and yet
closer Chaldffian, parallels exist ; the mystical bird Karshipta,
which is an Indian myth ; the Elysium of the Gods, which
is little more than an improvement on the Chaldjean
Elysium j Mount Eiborz, as the Persian Holy Mountain,
corresponding to the Indian Mount Meru ; the World Sea,
which renews and purifies all created things, and is akin to
the ocean out of which a new world was churned by the
Hindu gods. The Var of Vima, as we have already seen,
is the same as Yama's blissful realm. The divine beings
which appear in the Avesta in the guise of personified
abstractions, are the deities of Aryan mythology travestied
presumably, according to the hypothesis, under Neo-
Plaionic influences. So, apparently, the Amesba Spentas,
whatever tincture of philosophic culture they may have
acquired through contact with Hellenistic thought, were
originally identical with the 'Seven Magnificent Deities,'
who were the Chaldjean Gods of the Elements. We have
already seen that the Seven Spirits of Earth were said to
have their seats on golden thrones in the midst of the
Chaldaean Elysium, even as the Amesha Spentas in the
Avestan Heaven. Indeed, it is not necessary to have
recourse to Neo-P!atonism to account for the vast hierar-
chies of good and evil spirits which are found in the
Avesta, and still more in the books of the Rabbis. The
Chaldasan mythology, of which both Jews and Persians
had undergone the influence long before their contact with

i

82 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Hellenistic culture, was abundantly supplied in this respect.
Besides the seven principal deities (to whom, according to
Lenorraant, seven malignant deities were opposed). Pro-
fessor Sayce^ alludes to 50 great gods, 300 spirits of
heaven, and 300 spirits of earth, beside countless minor
spirits of many kinds ; while the later Assyrian authorities,
he says, raised the number of great gods of heaven and
earth to 65,000.

Now the district occupied by the Jews during the
captivity had been a focus of the religion of Chaldfea,
both in the Accado-Sumerian and in the Semitic periods,
and afterwards became a.n important part of the Persian
empire. The canonical books and the Apocrypha of the
Old Testament alike prove that close relations subsisted
between the Jews and both their Persian and Assyrian
rulers, and exhibit traces of the influence exercised by the
latter upon the Jewish writers. Thus it appears no rash
assumption, that it is to these sources we must ascribe the
substance, at least, of those doctrines enunciated by the later
Jewish writers, for which there is no authority in the
earlier writings of their nation, but which correspond to
ideas already existing among nations with which they lived
in close and intimate contact.

We have been discoursing at somewhat tedious length
upon points which may not appear to be directly relevant
to our subject, seeing that the Vision legend receives no
development later than the very primitive legends of Ishtir
and Gisdubar. Nevertheless, it is in the Chaldfean and
Persian religions that we find many of the notions and
images which furnished material to Jewish and Christian
authors alike, when, under Hellenistic influences, they
' Article ' Chaldia,' in Encyelopadia Brilafniia, vol. iii.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

83

took up the Vision legend as a vehicle of instruction.

Many of these conceptions continued to subsist in all
subsequent versions of the legend, even in its latest forms.
It is now time to lake stock of what we have gained, and
to note what features of the Vision of Adamnin, though
immediately derived by the author, as we shall see later
on, from the tradition current in the Church from the
earliest days of Christianity, or before it, correspond to
similar conceptions which exist in the Oriental tradition,
while they are not represented in the classical tradition, or,
if in some cases they may be found there, it is in a form
which presents fewer and fainter analogies to the later
developments.

In the first place, the earliest Chaldsean legends already
exhibit the rudiments of that sevenfold division of the
Heavens which was generally adopted by Jewish and
Christian writers alike, and ultimately received the sanction
of the scholastic divines. The science, if it can be so
called, of numbers is one of the most fertile of the many
fields which a perverted ingenuity has devoted to the
assiduous cultivation of tares, and hardly any number has
been accredited with a greater variety of significance than
the number seven, by reason, doubtless, of the primitive
astronomical theory of the seven planets. Dante, indeed,
raised the number of heavens to ten, in accordance with
the astronomical system that had come to be adopted in
his day, on the authority of the ancient cosmologists,
introduced to the mediaeval students through Arab
channels ; to the original seven planetary heavens he added
three others — the Heaven of fixed stars, the crystalline
Heaven, and the Empyrean. We may remark, in passing,
that the Samoan cosmology agrees with Dante in this

i

84 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

tenfold division of the Heavens. In the Chaldsean
mythology this conception of a sevenfold division occurs
in germ only, but the Seven Magnificent Deities — the pre-
cursors of the seven Amesha Spentas, and the seven Arch-
angels of the Hebrew and Christian divines — who preside
over the several powers of nature, lend themselves easily
to the attribution of separate territories in the celestial
domain. The beginning of this phase is apparent in the
seven portals, each guarded by a porter, through which
Ishtar had to pass on her way to the abode of the gods and of
the dead, even as the spirit of Adaranan had to pass
through seven ' Heavens,' so-called, the door of each being
kept by an angelic warder ; while the symbolism embodied
in the gradual spoliation of Ishtir of her earthly raiment
is analogous to the gradual purgation of the soul from its
earthly stains in the Christian legend.

The idea of a Tree of Life growing in the spirit world is
of wide diffusion, and appears at an early date in the
mythologies of the Aryans, Semites, and Turanians alike,
and the Hebrews in particular needed not to have recourse
for it to the mythology of cither the Chaldeans or Persians,
Nevertheless several of the Rabbinical legends, as, for
instance, that of the journey of Seth to Paradise in the
Legend of the Death of Adam, deal with the subject,
associating with it the Waters of Life, in a manner less in
agreement with the Scriptural account than with the
Chald^ean myth, which must have been made familiar to
the Jews during the captivity, not merely by oral and
written tradition but through the medium of the pictorial
art which would meet their eyes on every side, and in
which this was a favourite subject. In Christian legend,
moreover, the Tree of Life in Paradise is constantly

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

8S

introduced in connection with a mystical bird, or birds, ai
in Adamnan's Vision. The frequency of this association
may be explained in part by the great popularity in early
Christian symbolism of the Phcenix legend, in connection
with the palm-tree and the Tree of Life; nevertheless the
birds of Christian legend differ in several conspicuous
respects from the traditional notion of the Phcenix, and
approach far more closely to the Karshipta, the sacred
bird of the Persians, adopted by them from the old Indo-
Aryan mythology. This bird, as we have seen, perched
upon the sacred tree in Heaven, and he brought the Avesta
to the Var of Vima and preached it there, even as the birds
of AdamnAn and other Christian writers sang the Hours
in Paradise; where, moreover, they are constantly associated
with tiie preaching of the Gospel by Enoch and Elias, who
themselves exhibit some faint analogies to Yima.

The World Sea at the foot of the Holy Mountain in the
Avestan Paradise, wherein all things defiled are cleansed
and made new, reminds us of ihat Crystal Sea which
appears in the literature of the Christian Church, and, in
particular, is introduced with such magnificent effect in the
Book of the Revelation.'

The Avestan eschatology already contains the idea,
unassociated with that doctrine of rebirth by which it is
accompanied in the philosophies of India and Hellas alike,
of a special temporary provision for the souls of those
mingled characters who are not yet fitted for an eternity of
either bliss or bale — an idea in accordance with the teaching
of the later Hebrew and the Christian divines, including
the author of the Fis Adamndin ; and as in their writings, so
in the Avesta, is that provisional slate made to last until the
1 Revelation i». 2, aad d. Fis Adamndin, ch. 11.

1

86 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

destruction of the corrupt world and the final reign of the
good principle.

The guardian angel which the Jewish and Christian
divines agree in assigning to each individual soul, resembles,
if it does not wholly coincide with, the Fravashi of the
Persians, which would seem to have been a kind of
spiritual double of the man, distinct, apparently, from his
own soul, yet not so entirely separate from him as if
it had been a higher spirit intrusted with the charge
of him.

Thus the Jewish writers of the centuries immediately
preceding our era found ready to their hands a rich store
of traditions relating to the lot of man in the Otherworld,
formed by the combination of Oriental dogmas with the
classical tradition in the forms in which this was preserved
in the Hellenistic schools of Asia. Before, however, we
proceed to trace the manner in which these blended
traditions entered into subsequent versions of the legend,
it may not be superfluous to ask what, if any, contributions
were made by the remaining great centre of ancient
religion and culture, Egypt.

To this question it is difficult to reply with certainty.
While one of the great centres of the Neo- Judaic learning
was the School of Babylon, set in the very focus of the
ancient Oriental creeds, minor centres existed in every city
of Syria and Asia Minor, in each one of which a thriving
Jewish colony applied itself eagerly to the absorption of
Hellenistic ideas and culture ; but the csntrt, par (xcelUna,
of Jewish learning in the West was the flourishing and
cultured Jewish community at Alexandria. However, the
intellectual life of this school drew its nutriment from
Greece, and the whole tone and character of its speculative

J

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION

87

philosophy, as of its literary culture, so far as it was not
Hebraic, was Hellenistic, not Egyptian, and possibly more
Hellenistic than Hebraic. At one time it was customary lo
refer the mystical speculations of the philosophic schools,
Pagan, Jewish, and Christian alike, of the centuries in
question, to the ' wisdom of the Egyptians,' and to regard
Alexandria as the mart, so to speak, where ideas of Egyptian
growth were exchanged for others of kindred nature
imported from Greece and Asia. It has now long been
recognised that this theory is true to a very limited extent
only, and that Alexandria was, in the main, a Grecian city,
and indebted to Greece for the origins of its learning and
culture, whatever new developments these assumed in the
fertile soil to which they had been transplanted. During
the rule of the Ptolemies, and, afterwards, of the Romans,
the prevailing attitude of the Greek colonists was not alto-
gether unlike that of the English in India ; they held them-
selves as a class apart, and intermixed but little with the
native population, for whose religion and institutions they
would seem to have often manifested a contempt, in which,
doubtless, ignorance had its share. At the same time, we
might err in the opposite direction by concluding that
Egyptian ideas wholly failed to influence those who lived
and wrote in such close proximity to the chief centres of
Egyptian life. Even in our own day, the philosophy of the
Upanisbads, and the teaching of the Buddha, in however
distorted a form, have crossed the pale which divides East
from West, and the pale between Egypt and Hellas was
far more pervious. Both nations professed a complex
polytheism, with so great a resemblance between the two
pantheons, that even before the time of Herodotus certain
deities in the one had come to be regarded as identical

88 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

with their counterparts ia the other ; ^ the traditions of the
Greeks claimed an Egyptian origin for several of the national
gods and heroes ; a belief that the Hellenic religion was
indebted for some of its more esoteric elements to the
same source was expressed by Plato, and had been held
by his successors, and we have seen that some of the most
authoritative modem scholars accept this opinion as weU
founded, however much they may differ as to the amount
of the debt. These circumstances would necessarily pre-
dispose the more inquiring minds among the Alexandrian
Greeks and Hellenised Hebrews, in an age when specula-
tion concerning the hidden things of life, and of the life
after death, was a subject of paramount interest, to examine
the theories which had been held on that subject by the
nations, the orgiastic and magical side of whose religions
was offering just then so powerful an attraction to the
vulgar of the Hellenic world. Nor are we without direct
evidence of contact between the two systems of thought.
Ptolemy I. (abdicated 285 B.C.), acting partly under the
inspiration of Timotheus, an authority on the Eleusinian
mysteries, attempted to fuse the Greek and Egyptian cuhs
into one eclectic system. ^ The poet CalJimachus, who held
the post of librarian (c. 260-240 B.C.) to Ptolemy Phila-
delphus and his son Euergetes, acquired for the Alex-
andrian library Egyptian as well as Greek and Hebrew
books; and his successor in othce, Eratosthenes, the
astronomer and geometrician, was also addicted to Egyptian
studies. Indeed, the Plutarchian treatise 'On Isis and
Osiris ' is one instance out of many of the interest felt by
cultivated Greeks in Egyptian beliefs, which had long taken

' Herodotus, Euterpe, ii. 156.
' Dill, 0/. dt., p. 561.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION 89

their place as parts of the popular cult in many places in
Greece and Asia.' On the other hand, the initiation of
even a few cultured Egyptians into Hellenic learning
would suffice to ftirtheran interchange of ideas between the
two races.

In any case, the Egyptian eschatology offers many points
of resemblance to certain of the later Jewish beliefs, and to
Christian doctrine. Among these is a belief in the judg-
ment to be passed on every soul after death, whereby the
wicked were condemned to be devoured by the ' Eater of
the Dead,' while the righteous were led through a series of
perilous adventures to a region of perpetual happiness,
where, in a place surrounded by a wall of steel, they led an
existence which is the reproduction of a happy life on earth,
conceived in the usual terras of a pagan Elysium, with a
due allowance of even the grosser pleasures."

This resemblance extends to several points of detail.
Among the trials through which the soul must pass are
enumerated rivers and atmospheres of fire, and the assaults
of demons and monsters ; it is even affirmed, in agreement
with the teaching of certain Jewish Rafabis, and of the early
Christian divines, that all departed souls, good and bad
alike, must undergo these trials, but the good passed

' AtheniEtn colonists were settled in the Nile delta in the seventh
centQiy B.C. at latest, and at an even earlier date inlercouise had been
maintained between Greece and Egypt by the medium of Greek
traders to the Nile, and Greek mercenaiieti in the Egyptian service.
The cutt of Isis Wis introduced into Attica., at the Peiraios, in the
fourth century B.C. (Foucirt, Associaliims riligiiuscs, etc., p. 83), and
extended over the Grecian islands and the mainlands of Greece and

* Budge, Bosk of the Dead, 1901, I. Ix
Plge Kenouf, Hihberl Leclurti, 1879, pp. 1

, and lb. Ixvti, sqq.

go AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

through them speedily, and without pain. This, we
have seen, is the teaching of the Fis Adamndin, and occurs,
as we shall see, in other of the Christian Visions.

Indeed, the Rahbinical schools developed the Purga-
torial theory to a considerable extent. Thus, we find
mention of seven lodges of Hell, one below another,
through which the soul had to pass successively, being
tormented on its way by fire, scourging, showers of hail,
exposure to alternate heat and cold, etc., until all its guilt
was purged away. This process finds its exact counterpart
in the Fis Adainmiin, save that the Rabbis called the seven
stages or lodges Hells, instead of Heavens, with at least
equal propriety. The fundamental conception, and also
the nature of the sufferings endured by the dead in the
course of their purgation, are capable of being referred
either to an Egyptian or a Hellenic origin, though probably
the latter assumption would be correct ; the seven succes-
sive lodges are evidently the amplification of a Rabbinical
tradition borrowed from the Chaldfean mythology.

As to the ultimate fate of the wicked, opinions were
divided ; some of the Rabbis taught the final redemption of
all, after undergoing the necessary Purgatorial discipline ;
the school of Shammai held that at the Judgment mankind
would be divided into three categories — the good, the
bad, and those of mixed character, and that the last would
be cleansed by Purgatorial sufferings.^ The germs of this
threefold division are contained both in the Avestan and
the Platonic doctrines. The Kabbalists even had an ink-
ling of the Treasury of Merits of the Saints, to whom they

' According to one Rabbi Leo, the wicked are loctured b; fire and
otherwise, some without hope of rcmibsion, others for a time only.
— E. Cowper, Apocryphal Cvspcls, lotroductiou, Ixviii.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION 91

accorded the privilege of covering with their garments, and \
bringing up to Heaven with themselves, those sinners who
had repented before death, but too late to make expiation.
Here, too, we have a conception which recurs in the Ms
Adamndin and elsewhere, namely, the special provision for
tardy penitents, though in the Christian Visions the mode
of their redemption is different.

It is thus difficult to assign with certainty to the Egyptian
religion any specific article of the eschatology of the later
Jewish and early Christian writers ; nevertheless, it does
not follow that their contact with that religion was without
effect in determining the shape which their eschatology
actually assumed. It must be remembered that specula-
tions of the kind which characterised the Orphic, Platonic,
Pythagorean, and Neo-Platonic schools were not the only
forms in which Greek thought entered into the intellectual
evolution of that age. In the prevailing welter of Eastern
creeds and Western philosophies, all the principal philo-
sophic schools of Greece were represenled, and, in particular,
the Stoics and Epicureans exercised an influence both wide
and deep.' If, then, the class of ideas to which it is con-
venient to give the general name, Neo-Platonic, obtained
so complete an ascendency in the evolution of Judaic and
Christian eschatology, the presumption is that this result
was largely owing to the affinity of Neo-Platonism with
the Oriental creeds with whose doctrines and mythology

' At a somewhat later date, the doctrine of the end of (he world by
fire, held by many of the Stoics who, in the first century of the Empire,
represented the best a.iid most serious a&e of Pagan thought, would
appear to have encouraged the Ijcnt of Christian teaching In that
direction lather by familiarising the subject to men's minds than by
the contlibution of any new matter.

4

(

92 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Neo-Judaic speculation was so deeply imbued ; and i^
moreover, this speculation differed from Neo-Platonism
in certain fundamental points wherein it agreed with the
Oriental doctrines, the presumption is no less strong that
it owed its original trend in this direction to the forces by
which it was moulded in pre- Hellenistic times, and that
such trend would be confirmed by subsequent contact
with any school of thought in which similar views were pre-
valent.' The most important point wherein the eschaiology
of the orthodox Rabbinical schools differed from that of
the Greek mythical philosophies was the rejection by the
' The speculative writings of the Rabbis belong to a time when the
Jewish schools of learning had fallen under the spell of Hellenism.
So piepon derating was the influence of the latter thst Professor Percj
Gardner appears inclined to trace the entire Hades theory to the
Orphic riles, and suggests a 'great probability that the Christian
doctrine of the Descent into Hades, together with the itnagery in
which the future world was presented to the early Christian iniagiDa.-
tion, was derived neither from a Christian nor a Jewish, nor even a
Hellenic source, but from the mystical lore of Dionysus and Orpheus.'
— Csntempotary RevUw, Marcb 1895, So Mr. Alfred Nutl, speaking
of the Elysium of the Christian apocrj pha! writers, considers that the
'source must be sought ibr not in Jewish but in Greek conceptions,'
and that the Christian Heaven derives immediately from the Hellenic
one. — Voyage of Bran, i. 256, and see ch. xi. generally. With all
respect to these eminent authorities, I would submit that it would be
going too far absolutely to exclude from those parts of late Jewish and
early Christian eschaiology which deal with the theory of Hades,
including the Descent thither, and with the description of Elysium,
all indebtedness to the Oriental creeds which have contributed so lauch
to that eschatology in other respects. With this reservation, we may
readily agree with Mr. Nutt that ' Christian eschatology, as so much
else of Christian doctrine, is emphatically a product of the fertilising
'nSueaee of Hellenic philosophy and religion upon Eastern thouglil
and fency ' (op. til., p. 381) ; only contending that Eastern thought and
fancy contributed much of the raw material.

THE ORIENTAL TRADITION 93

former of the doctrine of rebirth, which predominated,
though not to the absolute exclusion of the doctrine of
finality, in the teaching of the mystical schools from the
seventh century B.C. at latest.

In this respect, as we have seen, the philosophy no less
than the religion of the Jews was mainly in accord with
the views held by the Chaldteans, both Accadian and
Semitic, and taught by the Avesta. In this view they
would be further confirmed if, in the Alexandrian period,
they fell under the influence of the native Egyptian religion,
as distinguished from the later syncretism wherein that
religion had become blended with allegories and orgiastic
rites pertaining to Asiatic myths and Greek theosophy.
Egypt, indeed, was formerly regarded as the very home of
the doctrine of rebirth; it would appear, however, that
the doctrine of the ancient Egyptian religion was of a
directly contrary import. The idea of transformation,
indeed, was familiar to it, but this is a difl"erent thing from
transmigration, and Mr. Le Page Renouf states most em-
phatically that although the beatified spirit received powers
which enabled him to visit any part of the universe in any
form, the sentence pronounced at the judgment was final,
and the soul was neither purged nor punished by a renewed
life on earth. 1 This contradiction between the doctrine
of rebirth which prevailed in the Greek mysteries, and
the Egyptian dogma of the eternity of man's lot after
judgment, lends support to the contention, referred to in
the previous section, that the ethical and eschatological
sides of Greek religion were in great part of native develop-
ment, however much the mystical schools may have been
indebted to foreign influences in their origin.
• Le Page Renouf, ep. cit., p. 183.

94 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Having thus got rid of a discussion which, however
tedious, appeared necessary in order to make us understand
whence and of what kind were the non-Hellenic and non-
Scriptural elements which entered into subsequent develop-
ments of the Vision Legend, we now come to the concrete
forms which that legend assumed in the Jewish and the
early Christian Churches. In tracing the progress of the
legend in these two Churches, it seems convenient to deal
with the whole subject together in the following section,
for not only do the principal Jewish examples which have
reached us contain additions made to them in Christian
times, but the versions belonging respectively to the two
eras are practically homogeneous, alike in their fundamental
doctrines, and, for the most part, in their method of treat-

3. The Ecclesiastical Tradition

A Vision of the Otherworld was a favourite subject with
the writers of the apocryphal books of the Jews. In the
oldest of these, the so-called Book of Enoch, which is also
the oldest non-pagan book of this class that has come
down to us, the subject is treated at greater length and
with more elaborate detail than in any other contribution
to the Vision legend prior to the Commedia. The last
quarter of the second century B.C. has been assigned as the
most probable date of the greater part of it, though in its
present form it evidently contains post-Christian additions.
Quoted in the Epistle of St. Jude (w. 14-15)1 and known
to the early Christians, it was long believed to have dis-
appeared at a subsequent date, and was only recovered in

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION

9S

recent limes in an Ethiopian version, from which it has
been repeatedly translated with commentaries.^

It relates, with copious detail, how the seer was caught
up by a vehement wind and upraised to Heaven, where he
was taken in charge by the Archangel Michael, who
revealed to him Hell and Paradise, the mysteries of nature
and of revelation, and the life to come. In the general
scope of his work the author anticipates Dante in several
particulars which are not common to the Vision writers in
general. He pays much attention to topographical detail
in his descriptions of Hell, for which he takes the Valley
of Hinnom, near Jerusalem, as his model ; but although
the accuracy of his description has been attested by several
travellers who have surveyed the valley, he is far from
manifesting the precision and visualising power of the
Florentine. Like Dante, moreover, he discusses various
points of theology, and delivers long dissertations upon
natural philosophy and the physical scheme of the universe.
Here, too, he is vague and indistinct, as also in his descrip-
tion of the future slate of the lost, wherein he displays
none of Dante's symmetry and orderly arrangement. We
may note several points of detail wherein the Vision of
Enoch resembles the Fis Adamndin or other of the
Christian Visions. The Archangel Michael already appears
as the guide to the other world (c. 71); the infernal regions
are swept by whirlwinds and traversed by rivers of fire, in
one of which the fallen spirits are immersed until the
carnal lusts of all such as are capable of redemption are
burnt away (c. 67), though there is also a place wherein the

' The Book ef Enoch, translated fiom Dillm^n's text, with noteii,
bjf Charles. Oxford, 1S93. See also The Book of Enoch, tiani.
Lawrence. Oxford, 1S21.

i

g6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

wicked are bound and punished eternally (c. za). Heaven
is described as a city of crystal surrounded by a crystal wall,
a river of vibrating fire flowing round about it (c. 13).

Upon entering in, Enocb came to a spacious mansion,
built of crystal and with a crystal floor, surrounded by a
flame as hot as fire and as cold as ice.' After this, he
came to another mansion, resembling the first, but sur-
passing it in all respects. Rivers of fire issued from out
of it; in the midst of it a throne was set, whereon One
sat in glory, clad in a robe brighter than the sun, and
whiter than the snow (c, 14). Further, Enoch was
instructed at length by his guide as to the significance
of many parts of the Old Testament record, and was taken
to view the several heavens, the heavenly bodies, and the
universe in general, the nature and motions of which were
explained to him by the Archangel. He was conducted
to Sheol, the temporary abode of departed souls until
Judgment, which is situated in the West (c. 1 7), and was
shown a mountain which was reserved for the life that
shall be after God's coming. Hereon stood the Tree of
Life, which was to afford sustenance to the righteous of
its fruit and fragrance (cc. 24-5). In a second vision, the
last things and other divine mysteries were revealed to him
by means of parables. In his Vision of Judgment he beheld,
first, the spirits of the guilty stars condemned ; after them,
the unfaithful shepherds that misled the sheep, and then the
wicked sheep themselves ; after which he beheld a mansion
greater than the former, supported on ivory pillars, wherein
were assembled the sheep that were saved (c. 89).

Here we find the Vision legend brought to a high stage

^ Cp. the veil of fire and veil of ice in the doorway of Adamnin's
celestial citjr. — F. A. 14.

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION 97

of development, and containing many features which rucut
throughout the whole course of the Vision literature. In
several of these traces of an Oriental origin are apparent.
Similar creations of the Rabbinical imagination occur in
various writings belonging to the earlier centuries of our
era, which, though composed in Christian limes, and in
some cases claiming a place among the sacred books of
the Christian Church, embody Jewish traditions. Of such
was the tradition current in those centuries, and quoted
in the apocryphal Gospe! of Nicodemus (Part 11. c. 19),
relating how Adam, when at the point of death, despatched
Seth to the gate of Paradise in quest of the oil of the
Tree of Life, or ' Tree of Mercy,' wherein, as before noted,
we have a variant of Isht^r's visit to Hades in quest of
the Waters of Life.

The Fourth Book of Esdras, as it is numbered in the
Vulgate, the Second in the Authorised Version, though
included in the Biblical Old Testament Apocrypha, was
nevertheless composed in Christian times and to some
extent under Christian influences, being written probably
in the third quarter of the first century a.d., though by
some it is dated so late as the first quarter of the third
century. The Vision of Esdras therein contained is
apocalyptic in character, being a prophecy of the end of
the world, the speedy coming of which was genera%
looked for. It is therefore not properly an instance of
our legend, but it calls for mention in this place, as it
contains certain conceptions derived through Hebrew
tradition from Chaldtean or Persian sources, and trans-
mitted to the eschato logical literature of the Christian
Church. The angel Uriel * showed to Esdras a great
> 2 Esdns iv.

98 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

roultitutJe assembled on Mount Sion, and told him that
these were ' they that have put off the mortal clothing and
have put on the immortal, and have confessed the name
of God ; now are they crowned, and receive palms.'
Several earlier passages furnish good examples of Persian
or Babylonian myths converted, so to speak, and since
adopted into the conventional imagery of Christian escha-
tology. ' They shall have the Tree of Life for an ointment
of sweet savour ' ; ' I have sanctified and prepared for them
twelve trees laden with divers fruits, and as many fountains
flowing with milk and honey, and seven mighty mountains
whereon there grow roses and HUes.'^

The name of Esdras is also attached to one of the
apocryphal books of the early Christian Church, the Vision
of Esdras, which relates how Esdras was led by Michael,
Gabriel, and thirty-four other angels through the realms
of darkness, wherein the punishments meted out to the
wicked are revealed to hira, and then to Paradise, where
he sees Enoch and Eh'as, Peter, Paul, Moses, the Evan-
gelists and Patriarchs, and all the righteous, assembled
beneath the Tree of Life.

Another vision of Christian composition, but likewise
fathered u[Don an Old Testament prophet, is the Vision of
Isaiah, the second part of which, written in the third
century A.D., relates a visit of that prophet to the seven
Heavens.

However, at an earlier date than that of the works just
named, the subject had already formed the theme of
writings professedly Christian in aim and origin. The
spread of Christianity, which, of its very nature, kept men's
thoughts bent upon the contemplation of the future life,

' L.c. ii. 12, 1S.19; andep. Isaiah xxv, 6; Revelalion xxii. i.

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION 99

was naturally attended by an increased production of works
descriptive of the other world and of man's lot therein.
No very great contributions to the subject are made by
the Canonical Scriptures, which vouchsafe us but little
direct information concerning the future life. St. Paul,
indeed, relates how he was caught up to the third Heaven,
and there ' heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful
for a man to utter ';^ but no intimation concerning his
experiences there are given us, and although the passage
quoted doubtless accounted for his subsequent inclusion
among those to whom the next world had been revealed,
all details of his vision are due to the legendary narratives
referred to hereafter. St. Jude (Ep. v. 6) refers to the
rebellious angels who are kept 'in everlasting chains
under darkness unto the judgment of the great day ' ; and
St. Peter (11. iii, 7-12), speaks of a general purification by
fire, but neither reveals anything concerning the state of
man in the hfe to come. Even the Revelation of St. John,
while standing far above the level of all other apocalyptic
writings, as in other respects, so in the grandeur of concep-
tion and beauty of execution wherewith the author describes
the celestial kingdom, would appear to have made but
slight impression, save by an added richness of imagery,
upon the subsequent course of the Vision legend. This,
possibly, may be because the author treats his subject from
the millennary point of view, taking for his theme rather
the tribulations which were coming upon the world, and the
establishment of a new heaven and a new earth in place
of the old, than the condition of individual souls after
death, or the places of their eternal abode. At the same
time, he makes use of some of that Oriental imagery which
xii. 2-4; and cp. G3.IaliaDs i. 12, 16; Ephesians i. 3.

i

loo AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

had already obtained a place in the H^iew writings,
canonica] and apocryphal sHke^ and thereby contributed
to its itaturalisation in the escfaatoiogical writings of the
Church.'

The earlier centuries of oor era were for the Grseco-
Roman world a period not merely of a general feeling of
nnrest, consequent upon the collapse of the older religions,
and the social changes resulting from a long series of
revolutions, but also of vigorous attempts at reconstruc-
tion, in which both the ends aimed at, and the methods
adopted for their attainment — preaching, teaching, asceti-
cism, mystic symbolism, etc. — were closely akin to those of
the Christian propagaoda ; indeed, it was no uncommon
thing for a seeker in religtoa, drifting about from one sect
or cult to another, to take Christianity in his way, thus
keeping open an additional channel by which Pagan and
Christian ideas were brought to bear upon one another.
Throughout all these ages speculations were rife, for
which was claimed the authority of Orpheus, Pythagoras,
Empedocles, Heraclitus, or some other of the ancient
mystics or philosophers, and all of these, conjoined with
the similar beliefs held by ihe later Stoics in many vary-
ing forms, tended to foster the Church's expectation of the
approaching end of the world. This theory derived further
support from the great authority ascribed to the so-called

' E.g. in Revelation H. 7, ' To him that overcomcth will I give to
eat of ihe Tree of Life, which is in Paiadise ' ; and iiiL 2, ' In the
midit ai the street of il, and on cither side of the river, was there the
Tree of Life, wtiich baie twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit
every month : and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the
nations' ; also the Throne and One seated iherean in ch. iv. , xx. II ;
Ihe sea of glass mingled with 6re in cli.iv.; the city built of prccioui

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION loi

Sibylline books, a long series of forgeries extending, pro-
bably, from the end of the second century B.C. to the fourth
century of our era, if not later, containing a chaotic mass
of prophecies and oracles, to which Judaism, Christianity,
and Hellenic mysticism had all added their quota, and in
which the proximate destruction of the world by fire, and
the renewal of things, is a constantly recurring idea.

Another of ihe many causes which kept men's minds
directed towards the Otherworld was the legend, current
in the Church from the earliest times, and surviving far
into the Middle Ages,' of the ' Harrowing of Hell ' by Our
Lord in the interval between the Burial and the Resurrec-
tion. One of the earliest versions of this legend occurs
'i in Part ii. of the so-called Gospel of Nuodtmus, Greek text,

which relates how He 'raised many of the dead, who

I appeared unto many in Jerusalem,' and then described

Christ's descent into Hades, which had been preceded by
a visit of St. John Baptist, who came to the Old Testa-
ment prophets, among whom Enoch and Elijah are especi-
ally mentioned, and expounded to them the Christian
Revelation.

From the contemplation of the end of the world to
speculation concerning the world to come, and the state
of the departed spirits there, was but a step. Accordingly,
'I as is but natural, many of the teeming crop of apocryphal

Gospels, Acts, and Revelations which sprang up during the
earlier ^es of the Church are composed with a distinctly
' eschatological purpose.

Midway between these apocryphal writings and the
canonical books of the New Testament stands the
t; Shepherd of Her mas, which is commonly placed among

k ' Vide Dante, Inferno, canto iv.

1

loj AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the writings of the Apostolic Fathers, and was formerly
ascribed to that Hermas to whom St. Paul sends greeting
in his Epistle to the Romans (xvi. 14), but is now regarded
as a production of the latter part of the second century,
being the work, possibly, of Hermas, brother of Plus, who
occupied the see of Rome from 140 to 155 a.d.* From
an early date this work enjoyed a high repute in the
Eastern Church, being admitted by some writers, including
the author of the Canon of Muratori, to a place among
the canonical books. Whether we regard its general plan,
or the machinery by which it is carried out, it occupies
a place by itself among the Christian Visions of the Other-
world, and is peculiarly interesting to the Dante student
as affording a remarkably early instance, possibly an
unique instance in ecclesiastical literature, of that idea,
perceived by Plato, and lying at the root of the Commtdia
—to wit, the elevation of the human spirit, through the
highest form of human love, to the perception of Divine
truth.

In the opening of his narrative, Hermas tells how he
had been acquainted, in his earliest life, with a young
slave girl, the property of one by whom he himself had
been brought up. Subsequently, this girl was sold by
her master in Rome, but Hermas met her again in after-
life, and conceived for her a fraternal affection, which
ultimately, as one day he saw her bathing in the Tiber,
ripened into love, and he desired her for his wife, 'both
for her beauty and for her disposition.' Some time after,

' The fact that the work was most in repule in Ihe Eastern Church,
and that several of the leading Western fathers wrote of It in dis-
paraging terms, ina.y possibly be held to militate to some extent

■ against this a^ciiptio:

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION

103

as he was walking in a lonely place, ' musing on these
thoughts, he began to honour this creature of God, thinking
with himself how noble and beautiful she was.'^ While
musing thus, he was caught up by the spirit, and borne
beyond a rocky place impassable to man. Falling upon
his knees he began to confess his sins, when he saw the
heavens open, and the object of his desire appear therein
and greet hiai. In reply to his questioning, she explained
that she had been brought thither that she might accuse
him before the Lord on account of the thoughts he had
entertained concerning her, though these would scarcely
appear to have been such as to merit the reproaches she
bestowed on Hermas by reason of them. So Hermas
thought, and maybe the damsel thought so too, for after
hearing his reply she smiled upon him as she vanished.
Thereupon the heavens closed, but, after a while, Hermas
saw before him a chair of whitest wool, in which an old
woman took her seat, having a book in her hand. She
accosted Hermas, and imparted to him certain moral
admonitions, but these were mostly confined in their
application to himself and to the government of his family.
Other visions were subsequently vouchsafed to Hennas,
making four in all ; the third of these contained a revela-
tion of the building up of the Church Triumphant, and
the fourth announced the tribulations which were to come
upon the Church, and the final salvation of those who

' This passage, so thoroughly Dantesque, reminds us curiously of
chapters 9 and 12 of the yita Nusva. Indeed, the little episode might
almost be termed a painting of Dante and Beatrice eneculed by one
□f the pcimitives. In like manner, the passage that ensues recalls the
reproaches which Beatrice addressed to Dante on meeting him in the
Earthly Paradise at the close of the Purgatorie.

A

I04 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

should endure unto the end. The second part of the
work consists of 'Comroands,'^ and the third of 'Simili-
tudes,' all imparted to Hermas by Divine revelation.
Certain of the similitudes contain visions wherein Hermas
was shown the corrective punishment of sinners, the edifica-
tion of the Ciiurch Triumphant, and the various classes
into which the guilty and the righteous are divided,
together with the diverse manner in which these fare
respectively. All this, however, is intended rather for an
allegory of the soul's progress through this world, than for
a picture of its state in the world to come ; in fine, the
vision is more closely akin to the Pilgrim's Progress than
to the Commedia, thougli it deserves a place in our series,
alike as containing a curious anticipation of the most
highly developed form to which the legend afterwards
attained, and as connecting the legend with the familiar
notion of the later Jewish and the early Christian Churches,
that when the other oracles of paganism were silenced, the
Sibyls were left to proclaim the advent of the Messiah,
and the trials and triumph of His Church. For it is
impossible not to recognise in the old woman with a book
in her hand, in the first vision of Hermas, the traits of an
ancient Sibyl ; and for such, indeed, Hermas took her, until
she told him that she was a personification of the Church.
The simple affection, not wanting in elevation, which the
hero of the opening story felt for the heroine— one at least
being of the servile class— is interesting as affording a
glimpse of that kindly social life of which there are many
evidences during the first centuries of the Empire, in all
grades of society, from the aristocratic circles of Pliny and
exteni: with Cha.t of

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION 105

Thrasea down to the slave community itself, however much
it is apt to be thrown into the background by the tyranny
and crime, vulgar ostentation and base lusts, that occupied
the front of the scene during that period.

Several of the apocrypha! books show a great advance in
the theory of retributive justice in the future life. The
so-called Apocalypse of St. Peter is known to have existed
in Syria and Egypt before the middle of the second
century, and to have been admitted by several of the
Fathers into the Canon, side by side with the Book of
Revelation. Paradise is here described in much the same
manner as the Greek Elysium — as a radiant place, full of
flowers, fruit, and sweet odours, etc. The pains of Hell
are set out with a more than common minuteness, and
with a greater attention to a kind of lex ialtom's, so to
speak, whereby the nature of the punishment is analogous
to that of the crime, than is found in most of the Christian
descriptions prior to Dante. Hell is represented as a place
full of lakes of fire and burning mud, over which those
who had blasphemed 'the way of righteousness' are
suspended by their tongues, and adulterers by the hair,
while in them wallow the perverters of righteousness.
Blasphemers gnawed their lips, and had red-hot iron over
their eyes ; false witnesses had tongues of fire in their
mouths, which they kept on chewing; rich raisers, in
filthy rags, rolled upon red-hot pebbles, sharper than
sword or spit; usurers stood up to their knees in pitch,
blood, and boiling mire ; those guilty of unnatural crimes
were hurled from a cliff and driven up again, to be again
cast down.

A similar vision of the Otherworld, though difi"ering in
plan and in many details, is contained in the Revdaiion of

{

io6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

S/. Paul, writteo about the year 380 a.d. Apparently the
author of the Fis Atfammft'ti had this work in his mind
when referring in ch. a to the Revelation that had been
vouchsafed to St. Paul, for the Apostle's own mention of
his Vision of the Third Heaven contains no description of
the Otherworld. Moreover, it is impossible not to be
struck by the resemblance between the Irish author's
description of the manner in which the souls were received
upon their arrival at the seventh Heaven (ch. 19), and the
corresponding account in the Apocalypse of St. Paul:
' And the good angels who had received the soul of the
righteous man saluted it, as being well known to them/
etc.^ And so of the judgments passed upon the sinners in
like manner. There are also several details given by the
apocryphal writer concerning the pains of Hell, which are
repeated in a closely similar form in the Fis Adamndin :
e.g. the immersion of some of the wicked in a murky river,
the imprisonment of others in a brazen wall wrapt in
flames, etc.

The theme was treated, with more or less fulness, by
several writers of the Eastern Church, but our task does
not involve the enumeration of all the forms in which it
appeared, and the versions already quoted would seem to
be those which treated it most elaborately, and exercised
the greatest influence upon later developments. Indeed
the two Visions last mentioned, being specially referred to
by the author of the Fis Adamndin among the instances
of revelations formerly vouchsafed to holy men, may be
regarded as landmarks showing the course of the tradition.
For the same reason, some mention should be made here
of another of those inslances, alluded to by the author in

' AHle-Niiene Christian Library, vol. xvi. p. 4S0.

L

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION 107

the same place, though it rcQlly belongs rather to the
apocalyptic than to the Otherworld class of writings,
namely, the group of apocryphal books dealing with what is
known as the Transitu! Manx. The oldest of these,
the Falling Aslee/i of Mary, by John, Archbishop of
Thessalonica at the end of the seventh century, was
formerly ascribed to St. John the Evangelist, and Tischen-
dorf thinks that it was really derived from a treatise bearing
the name of St. John, and written in the fourth century
at latest, which enjoyed a wide popularity in both East and
West, and was translated into several languages. The
several versions differ much in matters of detail, but the
substance is practically the same.'

It relates how it was the Vii^in's practice to frequent the
Holy Sepulchre, there to pray alone, until at length it was
announced to her in a vision that the time of her earthly
life was accomplished. Thereupon the apostles were all
caught up from the most remote parts of the earth, where
they then were, even those who were dead being raised
from their graves and brought to Bethlehem, whence they
proceeded to the Virgin's house in Jerusalem in time to be
present at her death, and to receive her benediction. They
laid her in a new tomb in Gethsemane, and witnessed her
assumption, at which time the Heavenly Host appeared to
them, and the Holy Spirit prophesied to them concerning
the last things.

In the descriptions of the Otherworld contained in the
foregoing visions, the imagery employed evinces a blend-
ing of Hebraic traditions with materials obtained from
Hellenic sources. The elements attributable to the latter

' Two Latin versions, together with ihe account of the pseudo-John,
lated in vol. xvi. uf Ihe AnU-Hicene ChrUHan LibiaTy.

io8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

source pertain rather to the popular faith and to the
doctrines taught in the ancient mysteries — which, most
likely, were fundamentally identical — than to the specula-
tions of the Neo-Platonic schools, or to the cults which
had been adopted from the East. This, indeed, is what
might have been looked for, from the fact that Christianity
received its earliest and most numerous recruits from the
people at large,' among whom the old beliefs continued to
exist. The moral teaching which, as menrioned in an
earlier section, was an important feature of the Eleusinian
mysteries, retained its importance long after Greece had
ceased to be the centre of Hellenic thought throughout
the countries which had come under the sway of Hellenic
civilisation. In the last century of the Roman Republic
Cicero lauds the mysteries, which, by their refining influ-
ences, had civilised minds previously rustical and savage,
had imparted the true principles of life, and had taught the
way, not only to live with joy, but to die with better hope.*
In the first century of the Empire, Plutarch reminds his
wife of the instruction they had shared at their initiation
into the mysteries.^ Indeed, at that period, it would seem
to have been looked upon as an impiety to withhold
oneself from initiation, that might even be visited with a
criminal prosecution. The experiences of Demonax, as
related by Lucian, furnish a case in point.

Equally great, at least, was the vitality retained by the

' Uling the word 'people' in its wider sense, not as equivalent to the
papolaecia, for there were persons of runic and culture among the early
as dbtinguishcd from Chose who were in high station, or
temerkable for learning.
Dt Ltgibta, w. xiv. 36.
See Plutarch's Consolatory Epistle to his Wife.

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION 109

popular belief in the Stygian river, and the pains of
Tartarus that awaited the wicked. There is evidence to
show that in the classical and post-classical ages of Greece
it was accepted as an article of the national creed. Its
persistence at a later date is attested by tlie vehemence
of the onslaught which Lucretius made upon it, for, with
due allowance for exaggeration, he could scarcely regard it
as an incubus, an ever-present terror, weighing down and
darkening men's lives, an Upas-tree which it was philo-
sophy's noblest work to uproot, unless it had met with
very general and very convinced acceptance in his day.
Seneca, indeed, states that in his time the belief was re-
jected even by children, and herein he is corroborated
by other writers ; we raust conclude, however, that the
children in question were exceptionally enlightened — the
Roroan prototypes of Macaulay's schoolboy — for 10 the
same century Plutarch, and in the following century LuciaD,
attest the vigorous survival of the old doctrine.^

On the whole we may say that in the descriptions of
Paradise, with the Tree of Life, the companies of Old
Testament worthies, etc., Hebrew ideas generally pre-
dominated, while the Greek Tartarus furnished most of the
ideas of the Christian Hell. These ideas, however, did
not include the doctrine of rebirth, which was so prominent
a feature in the Greek mystic cults. Indeed, the literature
of the Vision of the Otherworld appears to have belonged,
in the main, to the orthodox portion of the Church, avoid-
ing, on the one hand, everything pertaining to the popular
culls of Isis, Serapis, Mithra, the Magna Mater, and other

' Plutarch : On Supersli/itm, On Ihi Tardy Vengeance of God,
On tht Impraefieabitily of a Happy Life on Epicurean Frintifles.
Lucian : Fhilopsettdts, De Lttiiit.

iio AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

fashionable Orienlal deities, and, on the other hand, talcing
from Hellenic beliefs only such as were in harmony with
the general character of the Christian faith, little attracted by
the Neo-Platonic theories of emanations, Econs, and the like,
which did so much to mould the Gnostic and other heresies.

It would seem that the Vision of the Otherworld never
acquired the same importance in the Western Church as in
the East ; nevertheless, several of the Western fathers
report similar cases, many of which, it is probable, already
existed in popular tradition. One of these, related by
St. Augustine, tells how a certain Curina, a native of
Hippo, died, but, as the condition of his body suggested
that he was merely in a trance, his friends delayed the
burial for some days. At length, however, the funeral was
about to take place, when the corpse returned to life, and
told his friends that he had really died, but, as he was
being brought up for judgment, it was discovered that the
Angel of Death had mistaken him for another Curina, a
blacksmith, who dwelt in the same neighbourhood. Ac-
cordingly, after being favoured with a vision of Paradise,
our Curina was dismissed with a caution to mend his
ways, and present himself to St. Augustine for baptism,
both of which commands he obeyed.

The correspondence of St. Gregory the Great contains
several instances of a similar kind. One of these preserves
the experiences of a man of Constantinople, Stephen by
name, which were much the same as those of Curina, he
having received the fatal summons in place of another
Stephen, who too was a blacksmith. Stephen, like Curina,
was restored to the body, after receiving a vision, in his
case, of Hell.

A fundamental difference is apparent between the Visions

ECCLESIASTICAL TRADITION iii

JQSt recorded, and those composed in the Eastern Church,
these constituting a specific form of composition of which
the primary object was to present a picture of the next
world, while the Western fathers would appear merely to
have introduced, by way of apologue, a current religious
folk-tale. If a folk-tale, it was probably widely diffused,
for both the above stories are evidently versions of one
original — the scene of the first being placed at Hippo,
of the second at Constantinople. Both have much in
common with Plutarch's story of Thesposios, and nothing is
more probable than that all were variants of a folk-tale
current in antiquity — long before Plato, as likely as not,
for he too introduces the story of Er as a floating tradition
— and receiving at the hands of Plutarch and the Christian
fathers embellishments proper to their respective creeds.
Moreover, in both stories the persons who ought to have
died were blacksmiths, members of a trade which, by an
obvious association of ideas, has always appeared in
popular mythology in a somewhat sinister light. The
blunder of the Angel of Death in bringing the wrong
person up for judgment, is one of the motives which
frequently recur in the innumerable comic tales of Hell
and Judgment which enjoyed much favour in the Middle
Ages, and some of which are enshrined in the Ingoldsby
Legends for the delectation of late-born men.

Elsewhere, however, in another of his epistles, St.
Gregory records a vision which conforms more closely to
the literary type. A certain soldier fell into a trance, and
saw a bridge spanning a foul, smoky, stinking river, beyond
which fair meadows lay, fresh and flowery, and goodly
companies of folk walking therein clad in white apparel.
Over the bridge a procession of the dead were passing, of

L in himself,

^L to the bod

112 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

whom the righteous crossed successfully, and joined the
companies that were already in the prata beata that lay
beyond ; the wicked fell into the river. Then the soldier
recognised the aforesaid Stephen, who had since died
finally, and was now endeavouring to cross the bridge ; his
foot shpped, and as he was hanging over the edge, certain
grisly forms seized upon him, and endeavoured to drag
him down, while white and radiant beings strove to bear
him up. The issue is left undecided. The explanation
of this incident was that Stephen had been liberal in alms-
giving, but was addicted to sins of the flesh. Here we
have a connecting link, passing on to the Irish school the
bridge incident, belonging to Oriental myth, having first
appeared in Chinvat bridge of the Avesta. St, Gregory
likewise perpetuates the ' tug of war ' for possession of the
doubtful soul, which also first appears in the Persian
books. Like St. Gregory, Adamnan's chronicler shows
the parlous state of the kindly but carnal souls, though his
robuster charity pronounces decidedly for their ultimate
redemption {F. A., c. 27).

In the land beyond the river were many fair mansions ;
one of these was then in course of construction, being
built of golden bricks, which were the good works of the
destined occupant ; and they who brought the bricks were
the persons whom he had befriended.

St. Gregory also relates the case of one Peter, a Spanish
monk, who had died and gone to Hell, where he saw the
torments of the wicked, and among them many who had
lived in this world in greatness and high repute, and were
then hanging in the flames. Peter was about to be thrown

himself, when an angel rescued him and sent him back
to the body, with a caution.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

It is certain that the earlier Middle Ages, as well as the '
later, possessed many stories dealing with the Otherworld,
alike in form of the folk-tale and of the rehgious apologue.
Probably, too, an examination of the ecclesiastical writers
of the period would disclose examples of the treatment of
the legend as a distinct class of literary composition, like
the foregoing instances. Nevertheless, no important con-
tribution to the subject appears to have been made, nor
any new departure taken, until the legend entered upon a
fresh course on Irish soil.

4. The Legend in Ireland

While the Christian Church of Teutonic England owed
its existence, in the main, to the missionary enterprise of
Rome, the much older Celtic Churches, and notably the
Church of Ireland, were more closely connected with
Gaul and the East It was to Gaul that Ireland was
mainly indebted for its original conversion, and the inter-
course between the two countries remained close aud
unbroken. But the Church in the south of Gaul — and it
was the south alone that preserved any considerable
culture, or displayed missionary activity, in the earlier
Middle Ages — had from the very first been closely in
touch with the Churches in the East. The great monastery
of Lerins, in which St. Patrick is said to have studied, was
founded from Egypt, and for many centuries the Egyptian
Church continued to manifest a lively interest in Gallic
matters. Indeed, not only Lerins, but Marseilles, Lyons,
and other parts of Southern Gaul maintained a constant
intercourse with both Egypt and Syria, with the natural
result that many institutions of the Gallic Church, despite

114 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

its increasing subjection to Rome, dating from the year
344, bore the impress of Orienlal influences.' Hence the
close relations with Gaul maintained by the Irish church-
men and scholars necessarily brought them into contact
with their Egyptian and Syrian brethren, and with the
ideas and practices which prevailed in their respective
Churches.

Nor was Ireland's connection with the East confined to
the intermediary of Gaul. Irish pilgrimages to Egypt
continued until the end of the eighth century, and DicuU
records a topographical exploration of that country made
by two Irishmen, FideJis and his companion.^ Documen-
tary evidence is yet estant, proving that even homekeeping
Irishmen were not debarred from all acquaintance with the
East. The Saltair na Rann ' contains an Irish version of
the Book of Adam and Eve ^ a work written in Egypt in the
fifth or sixth century, of which no mention outside of
Ireland is known. Adamnan's work, De Locis Sanctis,
already referred to, contains an account of the monastery
on Mount Thabor, which might stand for the description
of an Irish monastic community of his day. Indeed, the
whole system both of the anchoretic and the ccenobitic life
in Ireland corresponds closely to that which prevailed in
Egypt and Syria ; the monastic communities, consisting of
groups of detached huts or bee-hive cells, enclosed within
a general wall, the structure of the ceils, and of the other
earliest examples of Irish ecclesiastical architecture, all

1 See Ireland and Ihe Celtic Chunk, by Dr. G. T. Stokes ; ed. s>
1900, pp. 169-174-

* Op. cit., p. 239, ^lii i^P' PP- 21^-1(1.

' Edited by Mr. Whilley Stokes in Atitcdota Oxenitmia, Midima!
and IHodira Series, vol. i., part 3.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 115

suggest a Syrian origin ; and Dr. G. T. Stokes holds that
'the Irish schools were most probably modelled after the
forms and rules of the Egyptian Lauras,' '

But it was not only Egyptian and Syrian influences to
which Ireland was subjected by its intercourse with
Southern Gaul. The civilisation of that country was
essentially Greek, and so remained for many centuries
after the Christian era; and this circumstance no doubt
contributed to the well-known survival of Greek learning
in the Irish schools, long after it had almost perished in
the rest of Western Europe. It is not to be supposed that
this learning was characterised by accuracy of scholarship,
or by a wide acquaintance with classical literature ; but
neither was it always restricted to a mere smattering of the
language, or to passages and quotations picked up at second-
hand. Johannes Scotus Erigena translated the works
of the pseudo-Areopagite ; Dicuil and Firghil (Virgilius,
Bishop of Salzburg), studied the Greek books of science ;
Homer, Aristotle, and other classical authors were known
to some of the Irish writers; several of the Irish divines
were acquainted with the Greek fathers and other theo-
logical works. Nor were the Greeks in person unknown
to Ireland. Many Greek clerics had taken refuge there
during the Iconoclast persecution, and left traces which
were recognisable in Ussher's day ; and the old poem on
the Fair of Carman makes mention of the Greek merchants
who resorted thither.

It is thus apparent that the Irish writers possessed

' G. T. Stokes, ep. cil., pp. 228-9. For other points of resemblance
ommunicalion between the Irish and the Eastern
Chatches, cited tiy the learned author, see pp. 105 n., 173.4, rSfi.?,
229, and Lecture X., passim.

ii6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

ample means of becoming acquainted with the traditions,
both oral and written, of the Greek and Eastern Churches.
The knowledge thus acquired extended to the Apocalyptic
i referred to in the preceding section, as is proved
by internal evidence furnished by the Irish Visions, both
by way of direct reference, and by the nature of their con-
tents. It remains to see how far the predilection which
the Irish writers manifested for this class of literature, and
the special characteristics which it assumed in their
hands, may have been determined by their familiarity
with analogous ideas already existing in their national
literature.

At the period in question, the traditional literature of
Ireland would appear to have entered into the national
life to no less a degree than in Greece itself. Indeed, in
certain respects, it was still more closely interwoven with
the habits of the people and the framework of society
than in Greece, for the literary profession was provided
for by a public endowment, something like that of an
established National Church, and its professors constituted
a body organised by law, and occupying a recognised
position in the State. One of the most marked character-
istics of early Irish civihsation, in its every branch, was an
exaggerated tendency towards symmetrical classification
and multiplicity of detail. This tendency extended to the
social system, and the earliest records of ancient Ireland
that have come down to us show that society was arranged
according to a very elaborate scheme of ranks and classes,*

ifieation, in theory at leasl, regulated the slniclure of
society from lop to bollom. There were four tanks of kings, from the
Ard m. High King, or Empetoi, of all Irebnd, to the fH Tnaiha,
King of a Tribal Territory. The tetiitories themselves were divided

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

117

among which the literary profession was remarkable alike
for the number of its members, and for the consideration
in which they were held. It was divided into several
distinct orders, each of which was specially addicted
to its own department of study, and of these the place
of greatest honour and dignity belonged to the Filid,
who combined with other functions the special dmy of
preserving and transmitting the national traditions.^ The
order of the FiHd was further subdivided into seven ranks
or degrees, graduated according to the attainments which
their respective members were required to possess. For
all, however, a knowledge of the romantic literature of
their country was an indispensable qualification — -the Ard-
Ollamh, the chief of the order, being required to know two

according to a descending scale, analogous to the English division
into county, hundred, tithing, etc. There were six grades of princes
under the king, classified according to the extent of their lands.
Society was divided into nobles, freemen, snd serfs, and each of these
classes was subdivided into a great number of minor grades. The
family was traced to the seventeenth degree, and was grouped into
six classes, whose rights and liabilities in matters of inheritance. In
the receipt 01 payment of fines and damages, etc., are defined with
the utmost minuteness. The land tenure, and the dues to be paid in
respect cf ea,cli kind ; the circumstances of crimes and civil injuries,
and the lines or damages to be paid for each ; in short, all the details
of public and private life, were elaborated with similar minuteness.
For particulars, the reader may he referred to the ancient l^al and
customary treatises, and the respective commenlarics thereon, printed
in the Rolls Series, the Ltbar na g-Ceii, ed. O'Donovan, 1847, and
O'Curry's Manner! and Customs of the Andtnt Irish, ed. W. K.
Sullivan, 3 vols., 1873.

' The Filid must be distinguished from the Bdrd, a name often
applied to the poetic and literary class promiscuously, but really the
litle pertaining to a rank far below the Filid in dignity. See Dt.
Douglas Hyde, The Literary History 0/ Ireland, pp. 486, etc.

.i8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

hundred and fifty prim-sdla, or principal stories, and one
hundred of secondary importance ; and so on in a descend-
ing scale through the inferior degrees of the literary hier-
archy. These tales, in turn, were likewise grouped, with
all the precision of a scientific classification, according to
their subject-matter, I Two lists are extant giving the
titles of the several kinds ; the elder, preserved in the
Book of Leinster, is ascribed by M. d'Arbois de JubainviUe
to the seventh century, or, at latest, the beginning of the
eighth century. They are classed under the headings of
Cafka, battles ; Longasa, travels (in exile) ; Imrama, voyages
(voluntary) ; T&gbdla, conquests ; TSgiasi, destructions ;
Airgne, slaughters; Forbasa, sieges; Ottti, tragic fates;
Tdna, forays ; Tochmarca, wooings ; Uatha, [adventures in]
caves ; Eachtra, deeds, adventures ; Sluaigheadka, hostings
or expeditions ; to which are to be added Fessa, banquets ;

' It is DOI to be supposed thai so elabota.te a system ever existed, or
coutd exist, in ils entirety, or that the population of Ireland was ever
sorted out into sets of social pigeon-holes with anything like the com'
pleleness represented by the chroniclers. The old Irish writers
comluned two characteristics, which may appeac, at first glance, con-
tradictory, though reflection may enable us lo see how compatible
they are on psychologic grounds, vii. a tendency to run riot in
the exuberance of fancy, and an equally e:icessive love of sptem
le detail. Nevertheless, writing as they did of the state of
society in which they lived, and for readers who were acqtiainled with
the facts which they described, they cannot be supposed lo have in-
vented thcit systems and classifications, but rather to have idealised
and elaborated their picture of an eiisting state of things so as to
mkke it accord with their conception of the true signiUcance of the
. Wcial scheme. Modern writers have often done much the same Ibiiig
■ lb > diflereot way, in their trealmeoi of the Feudal System, the
\ Imperial Theoiy, the Renaissajice, Reformation, and similar move-

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

119

Aithidi, elopements ; Serca, love-stories ; Tomadma, irrup-
tions or invasions (of recent date) ; Tocomiada, colonies ;
F'isi, visions. The subjects of these tales were taken from
the national history or mythology, or, oftener still may
be, from that traditionary lore which forms a debatable
ground between the two. Many of them were more
esteemed as authorities for tribal history or genealogy than
upon their purely literary merit, though in others the im-
aginative element is as frankly recognised as in a historical
novel by Scott or Dumas.

The romantic literature of Ireland reached its height
about the time of the greatest activity of the Irish Church,
and the sacred and secular schools did not fail to exercise
a mutual influence, for the Irish clergy by no means
despised these relics of Paganism : they possessed a large
share of that wise tolerance which we find in many of the
great clerics of the Middle Ages, who did not desire the
destruction of all the associations that had twined them-
selves about the lives of the people, but rather to enlist
them into the service of the new faith,' Two classes of

' The Irish writers are further remarkable for not confininE their
tolerance Id traditional practices and the like, but eitendiog it even to
the spiritual beings of the national faith. This point has been well
put by Mi. Nntl, Voyage 0/ Bran, ii. 205: 'And whereas in every
Other European land the ministers of the new faith were as bitterly
opposed to the fanciful as to the business aspect of the older creed, in
Ireland it is the saint who protects the bard, the monk who transcribes
the myth, whilst the bird-flock of Faery, alike with the children of
Adam, yeam for and acclaim the advent of the Apostle.' And even
when it has seemed necessary to regard these beings as demons,
sevetai tales show priest or saint feeling for them the like regretful
kindliness as Otigen, Burns, and Uncle Toby expressed for ihe chief
of the demotis. A very striking instance of the eagerness shown by
the Christian writers to put the best possible construction upon their

L

no AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the Irish talcs were specially adapted for ecclesiastical
treatment, and being thus brought into contact with the
general literature of media:val Europe, have left upon it a
deep and traceable impression. These were the Itnram,
or Voyage, and the Fis, or Vision, spL'cies distinct in kind,
but containing in practice much that was common to
both ; for the course of the Imram lay, for the most part,
among the enchanted lands of Celtic mythology, thinly
disguised, in later times, by a coating of Christian escha-
tology; and the Fis^ though more commonly of Christian
origin, and often indited expressly for edification, was
indebted to the same source for most of its mise-en-scine.
Both types of narrative are represented among the legends
which recount the adventures met with by Cuchulainn,
Cormac Mac Airt, and other ancient heroes in a purely
pagan Olherworld. Starting thence and proceeding through
the travel talcs, similar in many respects to the foregoing,
but more or less imbued with a Christian tinge, which
relate the Voyages of Maelduin, of Tadg Mac Ci^in, of the
Sons of Ua Corra, and the like, we reach, on the one
hand, the Voyage of St. Brendan, one of the most pictur-
esque and popular legends of the Middle Ages, and, on
the other hand, the visions of the Irish Saints, the stories
of St. Patrick's Purgatory, and similar legends which per-
vaded Western Europe, and passing into Italy would

pngan predecessors, occurs M the clou of 'The Iriih Ordesli,' etc.,
Iians. by Mr. Whitley Stokei, Iriseht Ttxtc, III. i. 221 : 'The wise
declare ihat when any atranse apparition wu revealed of old to Ihe
royal lords ... it was a divine ministration that used to come in
that wise, and not a demoniacal ministration. Atij^els, moieovei,
would come and help Ihcm, for they Tollowed Natural Truth, and they
served the coiiiiiiandincni of the Law.'

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND lai

appear to have ied up to the story of the wicked Marquis
of Brandenburg, and the opening of the Ttsoretto of
Brunetto Latini, which last, again, suggested to Dante the
opening passages of the Commedia.

A visit to the Otherworid was one of the most frequent
subjects of Irish legend. Not that the region visited is
always so described ; sometimes it is termed the realm of
the Dagda, one of the most primitive culture-deities in the
Irish mythology, and, at the same time, the counterpart
of Yama and Viraa ; ^ sometimes, the island paradise of
Manannan Mac Lir, the Sea-God; at others, the palace of
Mider or of Oengus, both of whom shared with Lug many
of the attributes of the Greek Apollo. Very often it is
merely the rath, or island, or subaqueous abode, of some
enchantress or fairy lady, but oven then some detail of the
story will almost always make it clear that the spot is to be
identified with the land of departed spirits, although, in
some instances, the authors may have been no more aware
than Ariosto in describing the garden of Alcina, or, indeed,
than Homer in bis islands of the Phjeacians, of Circe and
of Calypso, that all their imaginary scenes alike had one
common origin, the region where the kXutq, iBvta. vtKpuiv
have their dwelling.^

' Most of the principal Irish deities include a.inong Iheir functions
that of rnler of the dead. One of the most pronounced examples of
the Vaina. type is Tethra, who is described in the legends as Chief of
the Fomorians, whereby his distinctly Chtbonian character is asserted;
ajid, after the defeat oi his people at the battle of Mag Ture<3, as ruler
of a iaud beyond the ocean, like Vanioa, when overcome by Indra
(and cp. Hesiod, IVoris and Days, 16S-9, and Pindar, Olymp. ii.J,
Tbence, from time to time, he would send beautiful maidens to
summon to him the chiefs and heroes of Eire.

' Tbe subject of the Otherworid in Irish lllerature ha,s been treated

fl

122 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

The conception which the Irish formed of their Happy
Otherworld resembled in substance the ideas which most
other nations held upon the subject ; but their descriptions
of it are frequently remarkable for a poetry, a vivid sense
of beauty — in short, for a gusto, which are far less common.
For all that, however, they do not always reject the grosser
— it would, perhaps, be more just to call them the simpler
— pleasures which would naturally appeal to the healthy
imaginations of a people addicted to a vigorous and some-
what rude way of life. Thus in the subterranean palace
of the Dagda {afterwards usurped by his son, Gengus Og),
which was situate within the Brug na Boinne, and is
described as a place of unceasing delight, whither death
or sickness never came, the god sat beneath three fragrant
apple-trees, always laden with ripe fruit, beside an inex-
haustible vat of beer ; two pigs were there, one alive and
the other ready roasted, turn and turn about, and a caldron
brought by the De Danann from Murias ('Sealand'), which
was never empty of food, and from which none ever rose
unsatisfied, for it gave to each one a portion corresponding
to his rightful claims. These gross enjoyments recur even
in the truly poetic lines which Mider sings to B^find (or
Etain), wife of King Eochaid Airera, in the story of the
Brudin Da Derga,' tempting her to follow him to his realm
of Magh M6r. This he describes as a wondrous land,
traversed by warm sweet streams ; the people thereof are
handsome, without a blemish, conceived without sin or

very fully by Mr. Nutt in his Enay on the Irish Viiion of tht Happy
Otherworld, arid tki Celtic Doctrine of Rebirth, appended to PiofeESor
Kuno Meyer's Voyage of Bran, Son s/Febal, z vols., 1895-7-

' detracted fioin Oie Lebor na h-Udri, by O'Ciury, Manners and
Ciisloms, etc., vol. iii.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

laa

lust; their bodies are like the snow, while of slcin and
black of brow, their hair like tufts of primrose, their cheeks
like the foxglove, and their eyes like the blackbird's eggs.
But by way of additional attraction Mider promises the lady
a cap of gold for her head, fresh pork, soft new milk, wine
and mead of the choicest, and ale 'headier than the ale of
Ireland.' We learn elsewhere that Mider also possessed
a magic caldron ^ like that of the Dagda, and three cows
which never ran dry, So, too, Mananndii Mac Lir possessed
among other highly desirable chattels seven pigs that would
suffice to feed all the world, and seven cows whose milt
would fill seven tubs, whence all the people of the world
might drink their fill. It is interesting to observe how this
side of the Irish Paradise received a twofold development ;
on the one hand, being subjected to a refining process, as
we shall see when considering the Fis Adamndin ; on the
other, developing into a veritable Cockayne, in such
humorous writings as the Vision of Mac CortgHnne.^

Perhaps the fullest and most poetic account of the Tir
Taimgire is that contained in two poems of great beauty,
which occur in the Voyage of Bran, Son of Febal, before
cited. ^ It must sutBce, in this place, to translate such
portions as bear more immediately upon our subject.

' A similar caldron was a Uvouiile properly of supernatuial beings
in the heroic tales of Ireland as of Wales; indeed, so desirable a
possession Enters into the folklore of most nations.

• AisUngt Meic CongUniu, 'The Vision of Mac Conelinne,' edited,
with tmnslation, notes, and glossary, by Prof. Kono Meyer, 1892.

* Ante, note 3, p. 44. The work is edited, with translation, notes,
and glossary, by Prof. Kuno Meyer, who dates the composition of the
tale in its present form in the seventh century ; Mr. Nutt surest!
the eighth century (Bp. cil., i. 141). Fragments of the tale enist in
the LiU. Prof. Rhys identifies Bran with Cernunnos, the divine

124 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

A lovely maiden appears to Bran, bearing in her hand
an apple branch with twigs of silver and golden fruit upon
it ; this she places in his hand, and sings : —

' An isle there is afar ; round it sea-horses are flashing ;
a. free stretch, against which white-sided surges swell;
four pedestals sustain it. A delight of the eye, a glorious
array, are the hosts that disport them in the heroes'
chariot strife, in the Southern plain of Findarggat (silver-
white). Of white bronze are the pedestals beneath it ;
throughout the glorious ages, throughout the ages of the
world, shines the lovely land, over-snowed with many
blossoms. There is a stately tree in bloom ; the birds
chant responsive to the [canonical] hours ; at every hour
they sing in harmony. Jewels of every hue are gleaming
throughout the soft-voiced plain ; perpetuity of joy, with
linked melody, is in the Southern plain of Silvercloud.
No waiUng is known, nor guile, in the land of perpetual
tilth ; nothing rough nor harsh, but only sweet music,
strikes the ear. No sorrow, no gloom, no death, no sick-
ness at all, nor feebleness,— that is the token of Emain,
no rival to it exists, The beauty of the wondrous land,
lovely of aspect, a land fair to look upon — never its
like was found- Shouldst thou next look on Airctec,
bestrewn with dragon-stones and crystals ; Ocean strews
upon the land crystal tresses from his mane. Moor-
lands, thickets of every hue, in [the land of] Calm ; the
beauty of freshness, the hearing of music in its sweetness,
the drinking of wine the brightest. In Magh Rein [Plain

>r of the ancient Cells {Hihbirt Uctures, pp. 85-95). Mr. Nntt
fuither suggests an identity with Brans, the Fisher King, and keeper
of the Graal {Studies on Ike Legend of the Holy Craa!, 18S8, p. 208)-

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 125

of the Sea] the golden chariots come at flood-tide to meet
the sun ; in Magb Mon [Plain of Games] are chariots of
silver and of bronze, without a blemish. A herd of horses
Hke yellow gold is there on the strand ; another herd, of
purple hue; after them, yet another herd, of the hue of
a pure grey pearl. At the sun's uprising a fair man will
come, who illumines the level lands ; he rides over the
fair plain whereon the sea beats, he tempers Ihe ocean
till it is [as] blood. The host will come across the pure
sea; they show themselves, rowing towards the land;
then they row to a flat rock, well in view, whence a
hundred songs arise. It chants melody to the hosts, so
that sorrow is not therein; the music swells from the
choirs of hundreds, who look not for return or death.
Emain of many forms by the sea, it may be near, it
may be far; therein are women, many thousands, in
chequered array, and the pure sea round about it.
When he has heard the music's sound, the note of the
birds in Imchidin, a little band of ladies will come down
from the height to the field of games, whereon he stands.
Freedom with health shall come to the land on which
laughter is poured forth ; 'tis on Imchidin, at every
season, that length of life with joy shall come. A day
of serenity unending scatters silver on the land ; a pure
white cliff is on the seaboard range, drawing the sun's
heat from him. The multitude race their horses along
Magh Mon, a glorious sport, not languid; in the
chequered lea-land, all beauty excelling (?), they look
not for return nor death.'

We may see at a glance how thoroughly pagan is the
conception of the happy region here depicted, though

126 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

assuredly lacking neither m beauty nor refinement, in which
respects the Tir Tairngire need fear no comparison with the
Elysium of the Greek poets, which it so strongly resembles.
It is equally evident that the lord of this Island Paradise,
Manannan Mac Lir, is the Tualha De Danann counterpart
of the Fomoriau Tethra, king of the dead, who sends his
messengers in the guise of beautiful women — a^-ytAoi in all
literalness — to call his subjects unto him in his realm be-
yond the ocean. Indeed, Tethra himself appears in a
legend, exactly parallel to the foregoing in design, though
of more primitive structure, which relates the passing of
Connla, son of the famous Ard-Ri, Conn of the Hundred
Battles. Connla, like Bran, was visited by a beautiful
damsel, who promised to confer upon him a continuance
of youth and beauty which should never fail or fade until
the Judgment. She then gave him an apple and left him.
The virtue of this apple was such that it afforded Connla
nutriment enough for a month, at the end of which time
the damsel returned, and told him that the ever-living ones
had sent for hini, having chosen him to become one of the
folk of Tethra, there to dwell for ever, in the companies of
his forefathers, in the midst of his acquaintance and friends. ^
And Connla followed her to the sea-shore, where a ship of
glass awaited them, in which they embarked, while Conn
followed them to the shore, weeping, and watched them
until they were out of sight.

' In the disputation between Neid and Fereerlue which was to
decide which of them should be Ard Ollamh (Chief Doctor) of Ulster,
Ferceitue put the riddling question, ' What is it that thou traversest in
haste?' Neid replied, ' The plain of age, the mountain of youth, the
•e of the ages, in pursuit of the King in the house of earth and
i, hetween the candle and its ending, between the combat and the
hatred of combat, amid the brave waniois of Tethia.'

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND la;

By far the greater number of the visits which the heroes
and heroines of Irish tradition pay to the Otherworld are
variations upon the same theme : a supernatural visitant,
smitten with love for chief or maiden, induces him or her,
by persuasion, guile, or force, to follow to fairy rath or
oversea Elysium ; a theme which has survived to our own
day in the common legend of the Leanamfidn Sidhe, or
Fairy Lover. The story of Midcr and Etain, or Eithne,
above referred to, is an instance of this kind, Mider having
won Etain of her husband. King Eochaid Airem, at a game
of chess. In many cases where a hero's wife is thus
abducted the loss is but temporary, the husband, a more
martial and more successful Orpheus, winning back his
Eurydice by force or stratagem. To this also the modern
Irish fairy tales contain many parallels. So numerous are
the examples of this type, that it is both impossible and
unnecessary to discuss them seriatim ; it is enough to select
from each of the great tale cycles such instances as may
best show the persistence of the theme, and of the original
Irish notions concerning the Otherworld, some of which
coloured the versions in which the legend appeared in
Christian times. The Elysian abodes of the Dagda, of
Oengus Ug, of Mider, and of Manannan Mac Lir, which
have been described already, pertain to the mythological
cycle of Irish legend ; similar visits to the abodes of the
Tuatha De Danann are recorded in many stories belong
ing to the greatest of the heroic cycles, namely, the Ultonian
cycle.

One of the best and longest of these stories is the
Serglige Conchulaind^ or Sick-bed of Cuchulainn, the

\

128 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

principal hero of the cycle in question. We have room
only for a brief abstract of this story, giving the details
which relate more particularly to our subject.

Once, in dream, Cuchulainn was visited by two ladies
of great beauty, who, without vouchsafing any ejqilanation
of their conduct, kept smiting him with whips as he lay
until they left him speechless, in which stale he remained
for nearly a year. At the end of that time Emer, Cuchu-
lainn's wife, and those with her, saw one day a young man
sitting by his bedside, singing how he was Oengus, and the
dream-ladies were Fand and Liban, his sisters, of whom
Fand, wife of Manannan Mac Lir, having been deserted
by her husband, had conceived a great love for Cuchulainn,
and promised that if he would visit her in the T[r Sorcha
(Land of Light), she would make him whole, and give him
gold and silver and wine go ledr. Before complying with
this message, Cuchulainn sent Loeg, his charioteer, to
inspect and report. Loeg returned with a glowing account
of the Tfr Sorcha. He had been conducted to the house
of Labraid Luathlam-ar-Claideb — Quick Hand on Sword
— husband of Liban, where Fand was then residing. The
rath was situate in the midst of ' a pure lake, whither com-
panies of women resort'; before the door stood three
stately trees, pure purple, and the bird-flock singing upon
the branches of them without ceasing, ' and in the eastern

in Irischi Texle, vol. i. pp. 197 iqq. Pratessor Windiscli, who states
that the tale U composed of materials from several distinct sources
102-3}, HtlU attention to ihe thoroughly pagan chnracterof
I, despite the intioduclion of n passing allusion 10 Adam on p. atg.
u or the descriptions of ihe Tii Taitngire contained in this tale
^ in (be story of Midei bave been rendered in metre by Di. Douglas
' Litfraty hulory e/ Irtland, pp. 202-^.

■ etc

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND izg

doorway of the lios a tree — not paltry the music thereon
— of silver, on which the sun shines with exceeding radiance,
like gold.' Within was the usual good cheer, including an
inexhaustible vat of mead. Tempted by this account
Cuchuiainn repaired thither himself, and found that all
Loeg had said was true, and more. The beautiful Fand
consented to be his, on condition that he would aid her
people in war against a rival go d- clan ; this done, he
brought her back to Ireland. The upshot of it all was
that Emer, whom Cuchuiainn had always loved most fondly
until Fand's spell was on him, became jealous of her rival,
and sought to kill her. Cuchuiainn objected to this, but
Emer's devotion revived the unquenched embers of his
flame for her. At the same time, Manannan had found
that ' what our contempts do often hurl from us we wish it
ours again,' and the piece concludes with the return of all
to lYie^r premiers amours.

The OtherworJd of the ancient Irish possessed no Tar-
tarus. Malignant powers, indeed, there were in plenty;
not to speak of a multitude of hags and witches, giants
and ogres, gobhns and spectres, the divine personages
themselves often display a very sinister side of their char-
acter, while not uncommonly a brilliant chief or radiant
lady of the Tuaiha De Danann would be brother or sister to
a hideous and savage hag or giant.^ In like manner, the
Irish Wonderland (Tfr na n-longnadh) could show, along-

^ As Zeus was brother to Plato, and as the strife between the
Olympian snd Chthonian powers — the powers of light and darkness —
are typified, in most mytholt^es, by discord between a pair of divine
brothers ; a conception surviving in such creations of the popular or the
lettered imagiimtion as Valentine and Orsott, Aldna and Lt^stilla,

I30 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

side of its enchanted raths and Elysicui pleasances, scenes
of a widely different kind ; seas and lakes haunted by
terrible monsters, weJrd forests, and gloomy, perilous glens,
although, it is true, this side of the picture is treated much
less fully than the other. Nevertheless, there is no strict
line of demarcation between the two, which exist side by
side, as might the desert and fertile regions of the same
country.

One of the nearest approximations to the gloomy Hades
of the early Greeks is found in the realm of Scathach {The
Shadowy) whither Cuchulainn was sent by the wizard
Forgall Monach, his prospective father-in-law, in the hope
of getting rid of him, but on pretext of completing his
military education — an instance of the universal article of
primitive belief that the ultimate arcana of knowledge are
only to be won from the powers of death and darkness.^
The approach to Scathach's country lay across a plain, to
the one half of which the feet of whoso attempted to cross
it would adhere, while in the other half the ground would
rise and impale the passenger on the grass blades, like
spear points, which grew thereon. Cuchulauin was guided
across the plain by the familiar agency of a wheel and an
apple, given him by a young man whom he foimd dwelling
in a fairy rath, at the outset of his journey, and who thus
discharged the office of psychopompos, which in one form or
other— Sibyl, Michael, Virgil, hag or damsel — almost al?rays
appears to be indispensable. The way then led through a

* Hie episode is conlained in the TKhmarc Emert, The Wooing of

■•vet, dated eighth cenlury, hy Professor K. Meyer. Miss Eleanor

H uamlates the L.U, rersion in hei CtitMulUn Saga, pp. i^tg^.

RIK)T Meyei pabliihcs a shorter veisioD, with truislaljon, in the

W Cllliquc. xi. 441 sq.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 131

narrow glen, peopled by monsters, and over high and
perilous mountain passes. Finally, to reach his goal, he
had to cross the ' Bridge of the Cliff,' an enchanted bridge,
low at the two ends and high at the middle, of such kind
that, so soon as one stepped upon either end, the other
would rise and throw him back. This, Miss Hull says
{of. cit., p. 291), is the earliest occurrence in Irish legend
of the bridge episode, which, as we have seen, had pre-
viously been a prominent feature in pictures of the Other-
world, and afterwards appears with almost equal frequency
in the chivalrous literature of the Middle Ages. Miss Hull
suggests that the idea, in the present case, is borrowed
from the Norse; this, of course, is quite possible, having
regard to the prominence in Northern myth of the Bridge
of Gioll, crossed by Hermodr on his journey to the Shades
in quest of the dead Balder; while the Wonderland depicted
in the Erik Saga and in the Story of Gorm is likewise
approached by a bridge.^ However, without entering into
the difficult question of the epoch at which the Balder
myth assumed its present shape, or of the respective dates
of the Norse and Irish legends in their original forms, the
hypothesis hardly seems necessary to account for the
introduction of so obvious and so widespread an incident
into thti Cuchulainn legend, where, moreover, the Bridge
of the Cliff differs widely from the Rainbow bridge of Gioll
and from the more commonplace bridges of the Norse
Sagas. As Miss Hull herself observes, the idea recurs in
another branch of Celtic story, the Arthurian legend,'

' Mr. Nutt gives abstracts of these stories in the Visage ef Bran,
i. Z97 sqq.

* In the Perceval legend, a bridge of glass occurs in Gautler's
coQtinualion of the Cenit du Craai {Null, Stiiiiiis, etc., p. 17).

132 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

and 'belongs to the Hell doctrine of nearly all Oriental

religions' (Jec. cit.). Several of these we have already
examined, and have seen how the same idea passed into
the eschatology of the Western Church. Neither is it
confined to the cultured races, from Vedic India to Ice-
land; it occurs also among such primitive nations as the
liioits of Aleutia and the Bagadas of the Nijghiris. From
them to Addison's Vision of Mirza is a long step in every
sense.i

Another story connected with the same cycle, the Echtra
Nerai, Adventures of Nera, otherwise called tlie Tdin Bo
Aingen, Cattle raid of Aingen," may receive mention here
as presenting a feature which frequently recurs in the
ecclesiastical visions, while the main outlines of the story
are preserved in modern folk-tales. As Ailill, king of
Connacht, was keeping the Samhain festival in his rath of
Cruachan, he offered to give his gold-hilted sword to any
one who should dare to put a withe on the foot of a newly
hanged man, who was swinging outside. Nera accepted the
challenge, and after several vain attempts (the withe spring-
ing off of its own accord) succeeded. The corpse then
spoke, and asked Nera for a drink, and Nera obligingly
took the corpse on his shoulders, and offered to take him
to a house which appeared hard hy, standing amid a take of
fire. The corpse declined this offer, which is hardly to be

' A simitar 'otistacle bridge' occurs in other Irish Sagas. In (he
Voyage of Mcalduin'i Curach is a. bridge of glass, on which the
passenger kepi falling backwards. Of this kind must have been ihe
bridge which [he celebrated IrJEb M.P.^ieal or mythical — described
ai ' separating' two shores.

' Edited and translated by Professor K. Meyer in Jievut CtUiqHC,
X. 212 tqq., from the MSS. in T. C. D.— H. 2, 16 and Eg. 17S2.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

'33

wondered at, and the rest of the story follows the conven-
tional lines of the ordinary folk-tale, but we have here the
moat of fircj as in the Fis Adamndin and elsewhere.

Visits to the enchanted abodes of the Tuatha D6
Danann — to the Otherworld, that is^are comtnoti in the
tales belonging to the third great group of heroic tales,
second in importance to the Cuchulainn cycle above,
namely, the Finn cycle, in which occurs the most celebrated
of them all — the visit of Ofsin to Niamh Cinn 6ir, which
so late as the eighteenth century inspired Michael Comyn
with his fine poem, the Laoi Oistn ar dTtr na n-og. Still,
the tales of this cycle, however ancient their materials,
would appear to have undergone a somewhat modernising
influence, comparatively speaking, in receiving artistic
shape, in which last respect they betray more signs of a
deliberately literary treatment than their predecessors,
while in their treatment of the Otherworld they do not
appear to have contributed materially to the evolution of
the legend -

Distinct from the Finn cycle, though dealing in part
with the persons and events of the period to which Finn
has been assigned by tradition, is a group of highly
picturesque tales relating to the dynasty of Conn Cedcath-
ach (of the Hundred Battles) Ard Ri of Ireland, according
to tradition, in the second century a.d. In the Conn
cycle the Otherworld legend figures prominently, the
monarch himself, his sons Art and Connla, and his grand-
son Cormac, all having journeyed thither. These tales,
moreover, furnish certain links which connect the Echtra
with the Jmram and Fis.

It is said to have been Conn's daily wont to make the
circuit of Temair (Tara), in company of his Druids and

1

134 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

poets, to see that none of the Tuatha De Danann, or
Daoine Sidhe, alighted thereon. One day, while so
engaged, he Irod upon a flagstone, which shrieked so loud
as to be heard all over Temair and Magh Breg. Conn
asked his chief Druid for an explanation of this wonder,
but the Druid required a respite of fifty days before he
could give it. At the end of that time the king and his
suite again repaired to the spot, and the Druid declared
that the name of the flag was Fal, and that it had been
brought from Inis Fdil by the Tuatha De Danann to
remain at Temair for ever, and any year the Ard Ri of
Eire failed to look upon it, dearth would be on the land.*
And suddenly a mist fell upon them, and from out of the
mist was heard the sound of a horseman, who cast three
darts at them. 'Whosoever aims at Conn in Temair will
be violating the king's majesty,' exclaimed the Druid;
whereupon the horseman came forward and, greeting Conn,
invited him to his home. Conn followed, and soon reached
a fair plain in which stood a royal rath, and a great tree,
as it were of gold, in the doorway.^ On entering, he saw a

* This flagstone, the Lia. Fdil, was endowed with the properly of
ahrielting whenever pressed by the foot of a lawful king. The
frequency of vocal stones jn Irish legend will be referred to laler od.
Popular tradition identifies the Lia Fill with the stone now inside the
Coronation Chair at Westminster, stolen by Edwani l. from Scone,
where the kings of Albnn used to be crowned upon it, and whither it
was said to have been brought from Tara by the Dalriad Scots. I
believe, however, that the identity of the stone so taken to Scotland
by the Dalriada with that of Tara has been impugned. The practice
of inaugurating a king ur chief upon a cettain stone survived into late
historical times.

' The habitual presence of the great tree outside the ralhs of the
Tuatha D^ Danann is doubtless to be ascribed to the custom which

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

135

lovely damsel, a golden diadem on her head, standing by
a silver vat hooped with gold, full of red ale, and a goldeo
can and cup upon it. Beside it was a royal throne, whereon
sat a Seal (champion) of majestic stature, and of a beauty
never seen at Temair. Conn asked him who he was ; he
replied, 'No living champion am I, but one of Adam's
sons returned from death; I am Lugh Mac Ceithlenn,^
and I am come to reveal to thee the life of thine own
sovereignty, and the sovereignty of every king who shall
be after thee in t.iie.' — 'And the maiden who was present
to them in the house was the sovereignty of Eire for ever.'
Then were revealed to Conn the names of all the kings of
his race who should succeed to him in 6ire, a cup of ale
being borne to the name of each. The scene, which
suggests the similar revelation made to Macbeth in the
witches' cavern, closes with a prophecy of St. Patrick —
whom God should honour, and who should kindle a torch
that would illumine Eire from sea to sea — and of the later
races of kings that should rule over Ireland.

Here we have another instance of Christian embroidery
upon a thoroughly Pagan stuff; however, the identification
of the De Danann Lugh as a son of Adam returned from

pteviiiled in Ireland of having in a similar position a public tree of the
tribe, round or beside which ussemblies were held and games celebrated.
The Irish chronicles frequently report the cutting down of such a tree
by raiders as an insiJl to the invaded tribe. This praclice was
eitaetly paralleled in the medieval republics of Italy, where an invad-
ing array would often put scorn and offence upon a city by cutting
down the public tree which stood outside the gates, and was the
central point in games and festivals,

' Cethlenn was the wife of Balor of the Migbty Blows, a Foinorian
chief, and therefore of the Chthonian race of Telhia. She has left
her name to Enuiskillen, Inis Celhlenn, Cethlenn's Island.

136 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

; Lhan Lhe author, pro-

1 fuller s

the dead was true i
bably, was aware.

Another visit of Conn to the Tir na n-Og is related in a
tale known as the Ecktra Airt, or Adventures of Art.'
The Leanamhan Sidhe, who figures in this stojy, bears a
more sinister aspect than do most of her order in Irish
legend, and possesses affinities to the witch-lady or Lamia.
She was Becuma Cneisgel (B. White-skin), wife of the De
Danann chief Labrad Luathlam-ar-Claideb (Swift Hand on
Sword), and having been found guilty of infidelity, had
been banished from the Tfr Tairngire. Finding a curach
on the shore, she stepped in; this 'trim skiff' of the
Wonderland 'asked no aid of sail or oar,' and Becuma,
' leaving it to lhe heaving of wind over sea,' reached Benn
Edair, the Hill of Howth. Here she found Conn, who
had retired thither to mourn the recent death of his wife,
and introduced herself to him as Delbchaem (Fair-form),
daughter of Morgan (Sea-horn), come to Ireland from the
Tir Tairngire for love of Conn's son Art. However, it was
ultimately settled that she should marry Conn himself, and
she returned with him to Temair, having first obtained a
pledge from the king, according to the rules of Irish
chivalry, that he would grant her the boon she might ask
of him, which proved to be the banishment of Art for a
year. Henceforth, all went wrong with the country; the
land yielded neither corn nor milk, and the Druids, on
being consulted, affirmed that by reason of B^cuma's

' The Advenlures of Art, son of Cenn, and Ike CotirUhip ef
Dilbchaenii Sriu, iii. 149 sgj. Edited and translated by Mr. K. I.
Best, from the EcAtra Airt, one of the Prlm-icila of Ireland, preserved
in Euly MuUern Irish in the Book of Fermoy, R.I. A., a MS. of the
fifteenth century.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

137

wickedness the land was under a curse, which could only
be removed by sacrificing the son of a sinless couple, and
mingling his blood with the soil of Temair. Conn set
forth in quest of such a youth ; at Benn Edair he found a
curach which bore him across the sea, through herds of
strange sea-monsters of fearsome aspect, while the waves
rose and the firmament trembled, until he came to a
strange isle, 'having fair fragrant apple-trees, and many
wells of wine, most beautiful, and a fair bright wood,
adorned with clustering hazel-nuts, surrounding those
welts, with lovely golden yellow nuts, and little bees, ever
beautiful, hovering over the fruits, which were dropping
their blossoms and their leaves into the wells' (tr. Best,
loe. cil.). Hard by was a goodly house, the dwelling of
Daire Degamra ; the thatch was of birds' wings, while, and
yellow, and blue ; the doors were of crystal, and the posts
of bronze. Inside was a crystal throne, whereon sat Segda
Saerlabrad, son of Daire. Conn was made welcome ; his
feet were washed by an invisible hand, which likewise
guided him to the hearth, wherefrom a flame started up
of its own accord. Tables laden with various kinds of
meat were set before him by invisible attendants, and a
drinking horn was set thereon. There was a vat, finely
wrought, of blue crystal, and three golden hoops about it,
wherein Daire bade him bathe. Then he was bidden fall
to ; but it was gcis to him to eat alone, whereas the inmates
told him that it was equally geis to them to eat save alone ;
however, Segda, to oblige the guest, consented to eat with
him. Next morning Conn asked permission to take Segda
back with him, having heard that he was that son of a sin-
less couple of whom he was in quest. His parents admitted
that this was so, for they had never come together save at

138 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

his conception, and so it had been with their own parents.
Conn did not divulge why he needed the youth ; never-
theless, his parents refused to let him go, but Segda
proving resolute not to deny the king, they consented,
putting him under the protection of Conn, and Art and
Finn, and the 'men of art,' for his safe return. The
dinoutnunt, showing how Segda was preserved from sacri-
fice, is too long to relate here, having nothing to do with
our subject.

The story then goes on to Art, whose adventures are
the ostensible subject of it. B^cuma behaved like the
typical stepmother of the folk-tale. In order to procure
his absence from Ireland, she challenged him to chess, and
on winning — by foul play, being aided by spiritual agencies
at her command — put a gets on him not to return to
Ireland without the be fore- mentioned Delbchaem, daughter
of Morgan, who dwelt in an isle in the sea. Art, like his
father, set out in a curach, and reached an island
wherein was a diin similar to that of Daire. In it was
a company of fair women, and among them Crede
Firalaind (Truly- beautiful). Art was welcomed and feasted;
he told his tale, and Crede told him that his coming had
long been decreed; she gave him a 'variegated mantle,
with adornments of gold from Arabia,' and three kisses,
and showed him a crystal bower, wherein was an inex-
haustible vat, which straightway became full again, how-
ever often emptied. Here Art stayed a fortnight, and
upon his leaving, Crede instructed him as to the way he
had to follow. This way was wild and difficult, full of the
dangers and obstacles which commonly waylay the hero
of romance, though they only call for mention here as
constituting, with the realm of Scathach before described,

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

139

as near an approach to a Tartarus myth as Irish legend
contains. The terrors which Art had to traverse included
stretches of ocean filled with sea-monsters that had to be
fought and overcome ; a wood, where it was as though
spear-points of battle were under the feet, like leaves of the
forest ; a venomous icy mountain, with a glen full of toads
which lay in wait for passers-by ; an icy river, with a narrow
bridge over, defended by a giant whom no weapons would
harm, fire burn, nor water drown. Of course, all ended
as it should, but the remainder of the story casts no light
upon the Other world.

One of the best-known stories belonging to this cycle
is that which relates the adventures of Cormac, son of -Art,
in the Tir Tairngire.^ At the dawn of a May morning
Cormac was walking on the ramparts of Temair, when he
espied a dignified, grey-haired warrior approaching him,
bearing on his shoulder a branch of silver and three
golden apples on it ; and the music which those apples
made when shaken would lull to rest sick folk, and
wounded men, and women in the pains of childbirth.
After the two had exchanged greetings, Cormac asked the
stranger whence he had come. ' From a land,' he replied,
' where there is nought save truth, and there is neither
envy, nor jealousy, nor hate, nor haughtiness' (tr. W. S.).
They plighted their friendship, and Cormac begged for the
musical branch, which the other gave him, exacting in
return the promise of three boons which he should crave.
A year later the warrior returned, and claimed his first
boon, which was none other than Cormac's own daughter

' Ediled, with translation and notes, by Mr. Whitley Stokes, Msche
Tcxte, HI. i, 183 jf?., from ihe Book of Ballyniote, R.I. A., and the
Yellow Book of Lecan, T.C.D., both MSS. of the fourteenth centary.

140 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Ailbe. Though loath, Cormac submitted, bound by his
promise,* and stilled the lamentations of his household
by shaking the branch, and casting them into a profound
sleep. After a month the warrior returned, and demanded
Conn's son, and, finally, his wife. Cormac still felt himself
bound to comply, but he started off in pursuit, followed
by all his people. Upon their passing beyond the waits
a dense mist fell upon them, and Cormac found himself
in the plain alone. Before him stood a great diin, with a
stockade of bronze about it, and within it a house of silver.
The thalch of this house was the wings of while birds.
It was half thatched only, and troops of fairy horsemen
kept bringing other wings to complete it, but the wind was
always carrying them away. After this, he saw a man
feeding a fire with a great oak-tree, entire, and as soon as one
was consumed he would replace it with another. Then
he came to an enclosure also ramparted with bronze, and
four houses therein ; one of these was a great palace, ' with
its beams of bronze, its wattling of silver, and its thatch
the wings of while birds. Then he sees in the garth a
shining fountain, with five streams flowing out of it, and
the hosts in turn a-dtinking its waters. Nine hazels of
Buan grow over the well, the purple hazels drop their nuts
into the fountain, and the five salmon which are in the
fountain sever them and send their husks floating down
' Another instance of itie sncted chatacler wilh which the Irish code
of honour invested a. pledge, and which is apparent in the stories,
before quoted, of Mider, Conn, Art, etc. So in the Baile Mcngdiii,
a story printed by Prof. K. Meyer as an appendix to his Voj/a^ ef
Bran, Mongin is obliged to surrender his wife Dubhiaca to the King
of Leinster (apparently an euhemerisation of Mmiannin, who figures
in an earlier version, also given by Prof. Meyer (0/. ciV. )) in fullil-
" like pro

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 141

the stream. Now the sound of the falling of those streams
is more melodious than any music that men sing ' (W, S.
loc. a'/.). In the house Cormac found a warrior of exceed-
ing beauty, both in face and figure, and a maiden, ' the
loveliest of the world's women,' with a helmet of gold on
her yellow hair. Her feet, Cormac noticed, were washed
by invisible hands, and within a partition was a bath,
heated without visible agency, and Cormac bathed there.
In the afternoon a man came in, bearing in one hand an
axe and in the other a log of wood, and followed by a pig.
At the warrior's bidding, the man kindled a fire with the
log, killed the pig, and put him in a caldron on the fire to
boil. After a while the damsel bade him turn the pig, but
he replied that it was useless, for that pig would never be
done until a truth had been toid for every quarter. There-
upon each one told some truth; the man how he had
obtained the log and the pig, the properties of which were
such that after the log had been burnt out at night, and
the pig eaten, the pig would be found alive in the morning,
and the log whole ; and one quarter of the pig was cooked.
The warrior told how there was a field outside the iios,
which was found, at ploughing time, to be ready ploughed,
harrowed, and sown with wheat ; at harvest time, ready
stacked, and so on, and they had been eating of that wheat
ever since, and it none the less ; and another quarter was
done. The girl said that she had a herd of seven cows,
whose milk sufficed for all the people of the T(r Tairngire,
and seven sheep whose wool furnished the garments of
them ; and the third quarter was cooked. Then Cormac
related the reason of his coming, and the pig was cooked
entirely. When Cormac's portion was set before him, he
said that he never ate unless there were fifty men in his

k

1

143 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

company. Then the warrior sang a strain which sent him
to sleep, and on waking he beheld fifty men, and with them
his wife, son, and daughter. So they set to upon the food
and ale in all mirth and gladness. And a silver cup was
placed in the warrior's hand, who, as Cormac admired the
workmanship of it, told him that there was something
yet more wonderful about it, for when three lies were told
under it it would break into three pieces, while the utter-
ance of three truths would make it whole again. He then
told three lies, and the cup broke, even as he had said ;
then, to restore it, he declared that neither had Cormac's
wife nor daughter seen a man, nor his son a woman, since
they had left him, and in proof that his words were true,
the cup came together, perfect as before. So Cormac
received again his wife and son and daughter ; and with
them the cup, that he might discern between truth and
falsehood in his judgments, and the bell-branch for music
and delight. And the warrior declared that he was Manan-
nan Mac Lir, who had allured Conn to the Tfr Tairngire
that he might behold the wonder of it. And the men who
had brought the wings to complete the thatch of the house
were 'the men of art in Ireland, collecting cattle and
wealth which passed away into nothing ' ; the man burning
oak-trees was a young lord, paying out of his own
husbandry for all that he consumed ; the fountain was the
Fountain of Knowledge, and the five streams issuing
thereout the five senses, ' And no man will have know-
ledge who drinketh not a draught out of the fountain
itself, and out of the streams. The folk of many arts are
those who drink of them both ' (W. S. loc. eii.).

The foregoing group of stories from the Conn cycle
probably represent a very ancient legend, several of them

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

•43

being manifest variants of a single original, which at some
period became connected in turn with the successive
members of the dynasty. This is apparent even in
several minute points of detail : e.g. Conn's first wife, for
whom he mourned, and Cormac's wife, taken from him by
Manannan, were both named Ethne Taebfada (Long-side).
The group represents a stage in the theory of the Other-
world in advance of previous conceptions ;^ and although
the ideas which it contains tall far short of an eschatology,
properly so called, they yet contain materials which later
writers were able to employ in that sense. We can
discern here the rudiments of an ethical theory of the
Otherworld. In the story of Connla, the land of Tethra
appears as a happy place whither the souls of famous
chieftains and warriors are borne across the sea, as
Achilles was rapt away to the isle of Leuke; and even
this aristocratic Elysium — parallels to which abound from
Polynesia to Greece, and from Greece to America — contains
in germ a certain ethical idea. The favour of the
immortals is reserved for chieftains famous for their
birth and qualities, and thus the process is begun which
first designates as a 'gentleman' the scion of a noble ^mj,
and then goes on to require in such an one qualities
worthy of his origin, and to

' Lokc who that is most vertuous alway,
Privg and apert, and most entendeth ay
To do the gen til dedes that he can.
And lake him for the gretest gentilman.'

Thus, in the Adventures of Cormac, Manannan describes

' At the same time, it is perceptible that incidents of the miirchen
type are moie numerous in this group than in the great heroic

144 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the Tfr Taimgire as 'a land where there is naught save
truth, and there is neither enyy nor jealousy, hate nor
haughtiness'; a description which is applied in a greatly
amplified form to Heaven, at the dose of the ^«
Adanindin, and in Other Christian writings. It reminds
us of a passage already cited from the Avesta, descriptive
of the Var of Yim.i. Indeed, in Ireland as in Ir5n,
' everything that maketh a lie ' is excluded from the ideal
country, even as we have seen a want of fidelity to
plighted faith to be the vice most inconsistent with the
character of a king.

In the episode of Segda Saerlabrad, and again in the
Adventures of Cormac, occurs that idea of chastity in
connection with the T{r Taimgire to which, in its more
developed form in the Voyage of Bran, we shall have
to refer. This group, moreover, is marked by a tendency
to conscious allegory which is foreign to the previous
cycles. The maiden whom Conn finds in the diin is
a personification of the sovereignty of Eire ; and the diin
visited by Cormac is a veritable ' House of the Interpreter.'
The ethical significance of the wonders seen by Cormac
on the way thither, and there expounded to him, is
entirely symbolical of the life of this world, wherein the
story resembles not merely the Shepherd of Hertnas and
the Pilgrim's Progress, but the Tablet of Cedes and the
Choice of Herahles among the Greeks, and countless moral
apologues, Oriental and medifeval,

The De Danann chieftains, seated on their crystal
thrones beside the marvellous tree and the vat of ale, are
an advance upon the Dagda, seated beside his vat of
ale and apple-trees, and display the legend in a stage at
which it is ready to coalesce with, and give native

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

145

colour to, the Hebraic imagery of the Throne and its
Occupant.

The pleasantly toid little apologue of the Fountain of
Knowledge and iis five streams, which are the five senses,
interprets a very primitive Irish legend in the light of a
simple but not shallow philosophy.

The Irish heroic tales having passed through the hands
of Christian redactors, the question occurs whether we
must ascribe to them any ethical element that occurs
therein. Although it is hard to pronounce with certainty,
where they contain no express reference to the Christian
faith, it would be rash, and probably a mistake, to reply
in the affirmative in all cases. Certain ethical ideas there
must have been in pre-Christian Ireland, and the places
and the mode In which we find them are often those in
which they might most naturally appear. In the instances
referred to, there is nothing inconsistent with a system of
ethics far more primitive than that to which the ancient
Irish might conceivably have attained. Moreover, there is
nothing about the passages in question suggestive of an
interpolation ; they arise quite naturally out of the
narrative, and in one striking instance, that of Segda
Saerlabrad, are expressly bound up with the pagan idea
of human sacrifice in a manner that no Christian writer
could or would have invented. Neither does it seem
likely that an ecclesiastical writer who should make such
interpolations in the interest of the Christian religion
would make no mention of that religion in connection
with them. The very tales in question show in what
a clumsy and perfunctory manner such interpolations
were made, when it was found expedient to bring an
ancient legend into agreement with Christian doctrine.

i

146 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Instances of this are furnished by the prophecies of
Maiiannfin Mac Li'r in the Voyage of Bran, and the
reference to the Jadgment in the Adventures of Connla.
The last-named story further contains a prophecy of the
coming of the law which shall destroy Druidism and its
charms ' upon the lips of black lying demons.'

As previously mentioned, there exists in these same
stories a connection between the Echtra and Imram
classes of tales. In several of them the hero departs in
his curach in quest of a Wonderland that lies oversea,'
passing in the course of his voyage through the herds of
sea-monsters which beset the heroes of the Imrama, and
beholding marvels and visiting enchanted islands entirely
similar to those which occur in the latter.

In the Imrama proper we may note in an ascending
scale the gradual preponderance of Christian ideas, and the
assimilation of the old Irish conception of the Otherworld
to a genuine eschatology. Some of them, such as the Voyage
of Bran, and Cuchulainn's quest of the sons of Uoel
Dermait, relate a purely pagan legend, though the clerical
redactors have sought to dissociate them from the paganism
which was scarcely forgotten in their day by the interpola-
tion of a Christian prophecy, or the like, as in Christian
Rome the statues of the Olympian deities were converted
into the effigies of Christian saints by the apposition of a
nimbus to their heads. Then come a group written from
a Christian point of view, and enforcing a lesson in Chris-
tian morals, although the framework of the story and most
of the episodes are derived from the older literature ; -

' In the stoty of Cormac, Manannan's Paiadise, instead of lying
oversea, is placed within a di^n, at which Cormac arrives by land.

^ So the group of CiroHngian romances, which long passed for the
work of Archbishop Turpin, retained the chaiacl eristics of ii tiatbar-

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 147

such are the Voyages of Maelduin, of the sons of Ua
Corra, and of Snedgus and Mac RIagla. Finally, there
are the purely ecclesiastical Imrama, included in the acts
of one or other of the saints, of which class the Voyage of
St. Brendan is in every way the most important example.

We have been induced somewhat to anticipate the earliest
of the Imrama, and to give the greater part of the descrip-
tion of Manannan's Elysium contained in the Voyage of
Bran, in order to present in a single view the different
forms in which the Otherworld was conceived by the
ancient Irish. The story goes on to relate how, the
maiden's song ended, the branch leapt back again into
her hand, and she vanished; but the glamour was on
Bran, and he set forth in his curach across the sea. Here
he meets Manannin Mac Lfr, traversing the sea in his
chariot like a veritable Poseidon.' The god accosts
Bran, and sings to him a song concerning his Elysian
realm beyond the sea. His description adds but little
to that contained in the maiden's song; one touch, how-
ever, we may note, by reason of its frequent occurrence
in subsequent writings. He speaks of a 'charming delight-
ful game,' at which the denizens play over their wine,
' men and gentle women beneath a bush, without sin, with-
out transgression.' This passage has been accredited to
Christian transcribers ; however, the remarks previously
offered in relation to such interpolations in general would
seem to apply to the present case. The very poetical

ous sociely in thtir views concerning magic, supciatilion, morals, etc.,
though sanctified by the addition of ecclesiastical miracles, and ether
matters of edification, which earned fat it the formal approval of
Pope CaliituE II. in the year i ijz.

' Manannin is presented in like fashion in the story of Mongin,

148 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

description of the Tfr Tairngire contained in this tale,
while thoroughly in accord with the more primitive legends,
though amplified and drawn by a more masterly hand, is
marked by a refinement of imagination and execution more
than sufficient to account for the occurrence of the idea
in question, without any aii; of incongruity with the rest
of the description.^ We may add that it seems most
unlikely that a Christian scribe would, if he could, intro-
duce a touch of the kind, when he has not found it
necessary, in this and other legends where the old Irish
conception of the Otherworld has undergone an euhemeris-
ing and Christianising process, to delete the episodes of
enchanted diins and islands where the wayfarer is refreshed
with delights akin to those of the Mohammedan Paradise. ^

^ So in the tale of Mider, ante, vfheie, as here, it is introduced into
the description of the pagan Elysium, Magh M6r ; the ecclesiastical
interpolations, as here again, being brought in in the usual incongruous
manner.

2 As in the Voyage of MaelduifCs Curach, an Imram of substantially
the original type, treated from a Christian point of view. The trait
is copied in the Adventures of Tadg Mac CHn^ a late mediaeval
romance composed in the archaic style, where it receives from Tadg
the characteristic comment, * 'Tis queer, though charming ' ; he
evidently regarded it as an example intended rather for edification
than imitation. It is interesting to note how the idea recurs in
modern Irish poetry, as, indeed, practically, in Irish peasant life.
In poor Mangan's beautiful Love Ballad, translated or imitated from
the Irish, the hero —

* Sheltered by the sloe-bush black,
Sat, laughed, and talked, while thick sleet fell,

And cold rain.
Thanks to God 1 no guilty leaven

Dashed our childish mirth.
You rejoice for this in Heaven,
1 not less on earth/

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 149

Mananndn's song in the present tale contains a palpable
interpolation of the usual kind, in the form of several
stanzas prophetic of the coming of Christ.

Another Imram belongs to the Cuchulainn cycle, and
in its original form was probably older than any other
story of this class that has come down to us, but it is only
preserved in a later redaction. Cuchulainn having over-
come in battle the king of the Ui Maine, the king put a
spell on him that he should know no peace until he had
ascertained why the children of Doel Dermait had left
their country. Cuchulainn could find no one to tell him
this, and became a prey to unrest. At length he had
occasion to light a duel with the king of Alba's son,
whom he vanquished and would have slain, but that the
prince begged his life, which Cuchulainn granted him
on condition that he would solve the riddle. This the
prince could not do himself, but he promised to take
Cuchulainn to those who could. Cuchulainn accepted
these terms, and embarked on board the prince's ship
with his charioteer Loeg and his comrade Lugaid. They
first came to a fair island, wherein was a dijn surrounded
by a wall of silver and a stockade of bronze upon it. They
received a cordial welcome, but upon propounding their
question were directed to another island, where dwelt
Achtlann, daughter of Doel Dermait and wife of Condia
Coel Corrbacc, a kind of marine Enceladus, who used to
lie all across his island, and at every breath he drew
would send a great wave along the sea with the wind of
it. Achtlann guided them to a third island, where two
great giants bore joint rule, Corpre Cundail, a kinsman
of Doel Dermait, and Eochaid Glas Corpre. The former
challenged Cuchulainn to fight, and, being overcome, treated

ISO AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

him hospitably, and told him of Doel Dennaifs children,
who were held captive in that island by Eochaid. Next day
Cuchulainn attacked Eochaid in his ' Place of Tortmie,' the
Glenn ; but the giant was so tall that Cuchulaiim could only
reach him by jumping on to the rim of his shield, firom which
Eochaid kept blowing him off each time. Cuchulainn, how-
ever, by dint of one of those gymnastic feats for which he
was famous, leapt into the air over the giant and slew him
from above. He then released the captives, who straight-
way bathed in the giant's blood, and being thus healed
of their tortures and sufferings, were enabled to return to
their own country. In this story, which assuredly bears
small imprint of Christian influences, we probably have
the earliest form of that episode of the release of the
captives of some giant or wizard, which recurs in the
Graal romances, and is one of the most frequent in-
cidents of the romantic tales of chivalry.^ Its meaning
is clear, the release of the dead from the powers of the
lower world, a feat which is no less frequently accom-
plished by different means, in mediaeval stories, by a saint
or jongleur, according as the scope of the work is religious
or comic.

The earliest of the Christian Imrama that we possess is
The Voyage of Madduin^s Curachy the composition of
which Professor Zimmer refers to the eighth century at
latest, though it contains interpolations which Mr. Nutt
considers to have been made at the end of the tenth

^ One of the most explicit instances occurs in the Graal series, in
the QuestCf when Perceval is informed that the Castle of Maidens is
Hell, and the captives therein are the souls that await Christ's coming ;
the seven knights that defend the castle being the seven deadly sins
(Nutt, Studies, etc., p. 41).

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 151

century.^ It relates a voyage undertaken by Maelduin,
a young noble of the Eoghaiiachta, in order to find the
murderer of his father who had been slain by a marauder
of Leix. The tale is a remarkably fine one of its kind,
and its simple and picturesque prose is by no means
improved upon by Tennyson's poem, the subject of which
it suggested. It is long, and contains a great variety of
incidents, some of which, it is very possible, may not
belong to the original Celtic stock, but may be due to
classical sources. Certain it is that a great part of Ihem
belong to that class of ' ferhes ' which old writers used to
place in ierrx incognita, and have their analogues in the
writings of Herodotus and Aelian, and, Mr. Stokes says,
Megasthenes, to whom we may add Lucian and Sinbad.
The majority of them, however, are variants, and often
developments, of topics common in Irish legend. We must
content ourselves with giving a brief summary of those
episodes which most illustrate the development of the
Otherworld legend in Irish ecclesiastical literature.

As usual, the narrative mainly consists of the visits paid
by the wanderer to a number of enchanted islands, which
are mostly of the usual Wonderland pattern, though the
present description of them contains, in most cases, certain
distinctive features of its own. The wanderers are enter-
tained in stately dilns, with walls and palisades of the
precious metals or of crystal ; they are regaled with magic
food; there is the usual Calypso episode, etc. etc. One
island is raised above the sea upon a pedestal ; in another
is a river of fire ; one is encompassed with a wall of water ;

' Edited and translaleii by Mt. W. Stokes in Rev. CelUqut, ix.-i,,
from a version conlaincd in the L,U., parts being completed from
later versions. Cr. Vsyagt of Bran, i. 162-3.

H

152 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

over another a stream rises on one side and descends on
the other, forming an arch hke a rainbow ; upon another
is a tall column with a mystical veil depending from it and
enshrouding the island, — all of which recall features of Che
Paradise described in the Ms Adamndin.

Some of the incidents bear a decidedly infernal signi-
ficance. On one island the voyagers beheld a horse-race,
and heard the shouts of the crowd ; both jockeys and
spectators were demons. It has been suggested that this
incident, for which no parallel exists, so far as I am aware,
in earlier narratives, may be of Norse origin ; possibly it
may be one of those loans from classical literature before
referred to, and ecclesiastical influences may have depicted
in Stygian colouring the pagan Elysium in which departed
heroes continue to ply their wonted sports.^ At the same
time, it is possible that the writer may have dealt in a like
manner with the sports of Magh Mell, in Manannan's
Elysium, described in the Imram Brain. Of course, the
question of foreign importation turns upon the other
question, whether horse-races, as well as chariot-races, were
known in Ireland at the date when the Voyage of Afaelduin
was written.

On another island they saw a party of demon smiths
forging a mass of glowing metal, which one of them threw
after the curach, as Polyphemus throw the rock after
Odysseus." On another they came to a huge, hideous mill,
and the miller, huge and hideous to match, told them that
the grist which he cast into his mill was all things that had

' Pars io gramineis exetcent membr* palaestris ;
Contendunt ludo, et fulva luctantur arena, etc.

Viau., Atn., vi. 642-3.
^ Odysiry, ix. 481 iqq.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

»53

been begrudged on earth. This demon miller is rathut
a favourite symbol in Irish legend, and is not confined to
professedly religious compositions. It occurs in the story
of Mongdn in a slightly different form ; in the Voyage of
the sons of Ua Corra, who saw al! manner of precious
things cast into the mill, and the miller told them, ' I cast
into the mouth of the mill all things for which grudging
has been made, and 'tis the Miller of Hell I am ' ; and it
survived in local tradition as the Muilleann Luprachdn
(Pixies' Mill) near Tuam.i

There is something weirdly picturesque in this demon
miller who casts into his Mill of Vanities, and grinds
down there, all the objects of worldly covetise ; the con-
ception reminds us rather curiously of the mystical
Wheat-sieve in the carnival hymn of the Florentine
Piagnoni, 11 Trionfo del Vaglio.

In striking contrast to these rude sketches of the infernal
realm is a short but vivid episode in which the subjects
borrowed from the primitive Elysium are rendered by
a master's hand. One island by which the voyagers passed
was surrounded by a wall of fire, which revolved about the
island continually. 'There was an open doorway in the
side of that rampart. Now whenever the doorway would
come (in its revolution) opposite to them, they used to see
(through it) the whole island and all that was therein,
and all its indwellers, tven human beings, beautiful,
abundant, wearing adorned garments, and feasting, with
golden vessels in their hands. And the wanderers heard
the ale-music. And for a long space were they seeing the
marvel they beheld, and they deemed it delightful ' (trans.

' David Fiwgerald, ' Popular Tales of Ireland,' Sm. Ctlliqitt, iv.

1S9 sqq.

154 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

W. S., he. a'/.).^ Never perhaps in sacred or profane
literature has a passage of equal brevity portrayed with
equal vividness that Celestial Feast which, as fact or
symhol, enters into every creed ; from the gross delights of
that ' humbler heaven ' which ' kindly Nature ' has given to
the hopes of primitive man, to the imagery wherewith
higher creeds seek to picture the indescribable ^n deW
intelktto. There is no superfluous detail, and none is
needed, but the picture flashes out before the reader's eye
as it did before Maelduin and his crew — that ideal region,
cut off from the wanderers by a fiery wall which forbids
their access, but grants them a fleeting vision before they
pass on their way.

This tale contains a group of incidents which are largely
represented in the Acts of the Irish Saints. On one island
an old hermit, fifteenth in descent from St. Brenainn of
Birr, dwelt beside a lake. Hard by, a great e^le, very
old, alighted, bearing in his beak a branch and berries on
it. Two other eagles came and picked off the vermin
which infested the plumage of ibe first ; they then ate of
the berries and cast others into the lake, after which the
old eagle plunged into the water, and washed until his
youthful vigour returned to him, after which they aU flew
away. One of MaelduJn's crew bathed in the lake wherein
the berries had been cast, and lost neither tooth nor hair,
nor suffered from any infirmity until the day of his death.
As we have seen, mystical birds abound in Irish descrip-
tions of the Otherworld, but in the present curious episode

1 The root conception lieloDgs to the common stock of Celtic
tradilion. We shall see more of the fiery rampart lalcr on ; for the
rcvolririg w«U, cp. the caalle in the Welsh story of Peredui, which
spun round faster than the ninds^

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

•5S

we can easily recognise the classical legend of the Phcenix.
Mr. Nutt well develops this point in the essay to which we
have so often had occasion to refer, and gives an interest-
ing parallel in an Anglo-Saxon poem on the Phcenix. For
this, and the discussion thereon, we must refer the reader
to Mr. Nutt's work. We may note the very characteristic
way in which the Irish writer adapts the foreign incident
to the accepted forms of the national literature. The
rejuvenescence of the eagle is effected not by fire but by
water, which owes its properties to certain berries dropped
therein, these evidently belonging to the species which
dropped from the quicken-trees — a variant of the hazels of
Buan^into the wells where the Salmon of Knowledge
consumed them, and thereby acquired his supernatural
virtues.

Another island was covered with trees, which were the
resort of birds ; and bete dwelt a man, clad with his own
hair. This was a pilgrim from Ireland who had been wrecked
on the island, and the birds were his children, with whom
he was to abide there till Doomsday.

Another anchorite, likewise clad with his own hair, dwelt
upon an island surrounded with a golden rampait, and the
ground of the island was white as down.' He was fed by
a fountain, which ran on Wednesdays and Fridays with
whey or water, on Sundays and the feasts of Martyrs with
good milk, and on High Days with ale or wine.

On yet another island dwelt a hermit covered with white
hair, so that he looked like a white bird. He had been
cook at the monastery of Torach, where he used to em-
bezzle and sell the provisions of the community, and hoard

' Fiobsbly a reminiscence of some hetmil who had chosen a snowy
region in the Noiiti for hia retreat

156 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the proceeds, until he became exceeding rich, and waxed
proud. One day he was bidden bury a peasant ; on digging
the grave, he was accosted by a corpse already buried on
the spot, who forbade him to lay that sinner's corpse atop
of him, a holy man. The cook asked the corpse what boon
he would grant him for compliance ; the corpse replied,
'Eternal life'; and the cook found another resting-place
for the peasant. Some time later, the cook felt a desire to
quit the island, so he set forth in a curach, laden with all
his ill-golten wealth. At sea he was hailed by a man seated
upon a wave, who told him that all the air about him was
thick with demons, because of his pride and thefts, and hade
him fling all his riches into the sea. He obeyed, reserving
to himself only a little wooden cup. The man gave him
seven cakes and a cupful of whey-water, which the cook
carried to a rock, and this was his only food for seven years,
after which time he had lived on salmon which an otter had
brought him periodically.^ In the man sitting upon the
wave, it is impossible not to recognise an adaptation of
Manannan Mac Lir, who drove over the waves in his chariot
to meet Bran.

The prevalence of the island-hermit incident in Irish
legend is accounted for by the early history of the Irish
Church. The pastoral duties and missionary work of the
early saints necessitated frequent voyages to the Western
Isles of Scotland, to Britain and to Gaul, while that passion
for solitude and retirement, which alternated in them with

' A similat miraculous provision by the agency of some animal
occurs in the legends of several of Ihe Irish hermits. In Wolfram's
Parsifal, Ihc Grail appears as a 'stone which yields all manner of food
uid drinlt, the power of which is sustained by a dove, who every week
l&ys a Host upon it.' — Nutt, Studies, etc., p. 25.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

'S7

an intense activity in their calling, and even a vehement
partizanship in public life, found full gratification on the
small islands which fringe the western coasts of Ireland.
These islands naturally became the scene of those miracles
which in Ireland, as elsewhere, clustered about the names
of the saints ; but here, as in other things, a strong nationahty
asserted itself, and recollections of the island Paradise of
antiquity entered largely into the legends of the saints,
rendering easy the transition from the island retreat to the
Paradise where the saints dwelt with Enoch and Elijah,
beside the Tree of Life, amid the songs of the bird-souls
of the righteous. No doubt a certain number of these
wandering saints would be blown out of their course to
strange lands, and bring back tidings of the wonders they
had actually seen, which would lose nothing in iheir passage
from mouth to mouth. One such case is reported by
Adamnin bimseif, that of one Eaitan, who set out with
several others in quest of an ocean solitude, but returned
after long wanderings.^

In the Voyage of the Curach of the Ua Con-a,- the ethical
and eschatologica) element is entirely in the ascendant.
Conall Dearg ua Conaill Fhinn, a rich and hospitable noble
ofConnacht, being discontented at having no children,

' Vita S. Columba, I. xiv.

' lomram Ckurraig h-Ua g-Corra, ed. and trans, by Mr. W. Stokes,
in Rev. Celt., niv. %2 s<iq., from the Book of Fermoy, a MS. of the
fourteenth century. The tale, in its present foini, is later than that
of Maelduin, thougli Professor Zimmer considers that the original was
written early in the eighth century, the present being probably 'a
thirteenth -century rifacimcnto, save the opening portion, which he
(Zimmer) thus looks upon as being the earliest fragment of this gcrite
of story-telling. '—Nnit, Veyaginf Bran, i. !62. Mr. Stokes, however,
regards the extant veision as a work of the eleventh century, ioc. cit.

iS8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

ciUcreil into a compact with the Devil, who undertook that
( 'onall should have children, on condition that they should
belong to himself. In due time Conall's wife bore him
tiiplots, who received 'heathen baptism' by the names of
Lochun, Kinne, and Silvester. These grew up to be mighty
nu*n of valour; howbeit, they considered that as they
brlongcil to the Devil, it was hard if they might not harry
hiK rncinics. Accordingly, they set themselves to plunder
and burn the churches and monasteries of Tuam, and of
half C'onnacht besides. Finally, they proposed to add the
hist touch to their guilt by murdering the Erenach of Clogher,
tlicir mother's father, and burning his church on him. The
belter to elToct their purpose, they visited the Erenach and
imrtook of his hospitality, and went to sleep, awaiting the
oonung of night. Then Lochan had a dream, wherein he
siiw Hell with its four rivers, one of them full of toads,
another of scri)ents, the third running fire, and the fourth
ice. He also saw the *Piast of Hell,' *and abundance of
heads and feet on it,* a form under which * the old Dragon '
often appears in Irish sacred legend. He was then taken
to 1 leaven, and saw *the Lord Himself on His throne, and
bin! flocks of angels making music to Him,' the sweetest
singer of all being Michael, in form of a bird. On waking,
he related his vision to his brethren, and they all, moved
to repentance, vowed thenceforth to serve God instead of
the Devil. Accordingly, * they made staves of their spear-
shafts,' instead of beating their spears into pruning-hooks,
and betook themselves to St. Finden of Clonard, to whom
they made confession. He instructed them in religion for
a year and a day, and then bade them go and restore the
churches which they had destroyed. This they did ; and
then, * one day when they came forth over the edge of the

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

IS9
t past

haven, they were contemplating the sui

them westwards, and they marvelled mi

course. "And in what direction goes the sun," say they,

" when he goes under the sea ? And what more wondrous

thing," say they, " than the sea with out ice, and ice on every

other water ?"' ^

These reflections, so typical of the old Irish attitude
towards Nature, although to us they may seem to be more
in keeping with the ideas of much more recent times, awoke
in theUiCorrathat spirit of wandering, than which, perhaps,
no other Leanamhan Sidhe casts more potent spells on man.
They got a friend, a wright, to build them a ship, wherein
they embarked, with a bishop, a priest, a deacon, a ship-
wright, a buffoon, and a servant, being nine in all; then,
at the bishop's bidding, they committed themselves to the
guidance of the winds.

The incidents of the voyage and the lands they visited
resemble those described in the Voyage of Maelduin, several
of the islands at which they touched exhibiting the mise
en seine of pagan legend, adapted in the usual manner to
the Christian drama. Thus on one of these islands they
found an orchard of fair, fragrant apple-trees, and a most
beautiful river flowing through it; and 'when the wind
would move the tree-tops of tlie grove, sweeter was their
song than any music ' (trans. W. Stokes, /oc. at.). And the
apples and the river, which was of wine, cured all wounds

'And. as I natch Ihe line af ligtil, thai pUys

Along the smooth wave, tow' id Ihe burning west,
I long to tread thai golden path of rays.
And think 'twould lead to some bright isle of rest.'— MoORE,

i6o AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

and sickness. Many of the adventures belong to the
common stock of wonder voyages ; here, as in the Voyage
of Maelduin, mention is made of the island uplifted above
the sea by a pedestal, whence the voices of the islanders
could be heard, but the speakers not seen ; of the watery
arch, the pillar and net, the demon smiths, etc. On one
island flowers were growing as big as tables, dropping
honey, and about them beautiful bright bird-Hocks were
singing. Here dwell a ' son of the Church,' Dega, a dis-
ciple of the Apostle Andrew, who had gone on a pilgrimage
across the ocean to expiate his having forgotten his
nocturn one night ; he was awaiting Doomsday on that
island, together with the birds, who were the souls of boly
human beings.

In these islands, the abode of pilgrims and hermits until
Doomsday, we have, in a pagan setting, the limbo of the
boat std non valde. A little further on, we come to what
is the first incident of a purely Purgatorial nature occurring
in this class of literature. One island was divided into
two parts — the one part inhabited by the living, the other
by the dead. Multitudes were lying there on red-hot
flagstones, with red-hot spits through them, howling
terribly as a fiery sea sent its billows of flame over them.
These were they who had failed to make expiation for
their sins on earth, and were tormented in this manner
until Doomsday.

The voyagers also perceived flocks of birds rising from
out of a river, pursued by eels, otters, and black swans.
These were the spirits of the damned, let out of Hell for a.
day's respite on Sundays, though they were not allowed to
enjoy this boon in peace, for the eels, etc., were demons
that kept pursuing them. One of these birds had three

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND i6i

beautiful rays on its breast ; this was a woman who had
forsaken her husband, but had brought him food when
sick and in want. This notion that the damned were
periodically allowed a day's holiday ^ was generally accepted
by the early Church in Ireland, as elsewhere. Sometimes,
as here, this was believed to take place so often as every
Sunday; by some, only on the great festivals of the
Church, as Christmas Day and Easter. Our author, like
several other of the Irish Churchmen, was a strict Sabba-
tarian, and gives to violations of the Sunday a place dis-
proportionately large, visiting them with a severity that
seems excessive. For instance, a solitary rower was row-
ing with a fiery spade upon a fiery river, the waves of
which kept breaking over him j this was a boatman who
had plied his trade on Sunday. The lurid picturesqueness
of this figure, worthy of Danle, is spoiled by the dispro-
portion between crime and punishment. A horseman
bestrode a fiery horse; he had stolen his brother's horse,
and ridden him on a Sunday. There was also a black,
smoky giant, carrying an iron staff as big as a mill-shaft,
and flakes of fire, as big as fleeces, coming out of his
throat. This was no Typhoeus, nor heresiarch, nor con-
queror, the scourge of nations, but a man who had carried
firewood on a Sunday ; for this he now bore on his back

* A similar belief existed in the old Latin religion. Outside tbe
city gales of every town there used to l)e a pit, the ' Mundus,' which
was regarded as the receptacle of Ihe souls of the dead. It was
covered with a flagstone, which was lifted on three days in the year,
occurring in August, October, and November, to give the imprisoned
souls a holiday. Cp. the belief, once prevalent all over Europe, and
still existing in many parts, that on All Souls' Eve the spirits would
go through their towns in procession, and visit their former homes.

i6z AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

a bundle of faggots, the load of six oxen, which would
blaze up, ever and anon, when he would fling himself into
the sea, ' but it was increase of pain to him.'

Reference has already been made to the demon miller,
grinding the world's vain riches. One island was peopled
by men wailing aloud as they were mangled by the fiery
red beaks and talons of sable birds, while their tongues
were aflame within their heads; these were dishonest
smiths.

Other islands which the Ui Corra visited were variants
of the earthly Paradise, being inhabited by pilgrims, soli-
taries, etc., like those already described.

The Voyage of Snedgus and Mac Jiiagla^ is equally
Christian in conception, and in some respects approximates
yet more closely to the eschatology of the Fis. The men
of Ross, unable to endure the tyranny of Fiacha, their chief,
killed him, thereby rendering themselves liable to death.
At the instance of St. Colm Cille, this doom was com-
muted to the old Irish punishment of exposure on the
sea ; and they were set adrift, sixty couples of them, in as
many small boats, 'for God to judge them,' It was
Snedgus and Mac Rfagia that were sent to bear this
sentence to them, and shortly afterwards they embarked
on their own account to make a pilgrimage to the East.
After visiting several islands of the familiar type, they
came to one whereon was a great tree, and many beautiful

1 Imrum Snedghusa agus Mic Rlagla, ed. and trans, by Mr.
Whitley Stokes, Scv. Cilt., ix. iz !qq., from the Yellow Book of Lecan,
before mentioned ; and see O'Curry, MS. Materiah of Irish History,
pp. 333 sqq. Mr. Stokes ascribes Che tile to the middle of the seventh
century ; Mr. Nutl, to the middle at latter part of the ninth century.
— Voyagt of Bran, i. 231.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

163

birds perched thereon. And 'melodious was the music
of those birds, singing psalms and canticles, praising the
Lord. For they were the birds of the plain of Heaven,
and neither trunk nor leaf of that tree decayed' (trans. W.
Stokes, loc. cit.). On the top of the tree sat a great bird,
with a head of gold and wings of silver, who told of the
Creation of the World, of the Nativity, Baptism, Passion,
Resurrection, etc.; 'and he tells tidings of Doom; and
then all the birds used to beat their sides with their wings,
so that showers of blood dropt out of their sides, for dread
of the tidings of Doom ' (^Ibid.).

After which they came to a land where they found
the banished men of Ross, who were to abide there until
Judgment, for they were guiUless in what they had done;
Fiacha having apparently deserved his fate. 'Good is
this island,' they said, ' wherein we are, for in it are Elijah
and Enoch, and noble is the dwelling wherein is Elijah.'
And they showed the voyagers a lake of water and a lake
of fire, which should long since have come over Eire, had
not St, Patrick and St. Martin been praying for the land.
The travellers asked to see Enoch, but were told that he
was 'in a secret place, until we shall all go to battle on the
Day of Judgment.' ^

' The anticipation of a general battle immediately prior lo the
Judgment, though an atlicle of many religions {e.g. the Persian, the
Nofse, etc.), is unusual in Irish writings of the preseni class ; it is pio-
bahly suggested by the prophecies contained in Ihe Revelations, and
in the prophetical books of the Old Testament, mote especially the
mention of the Battle of Armageddon in Rev. ivi. The mention of
Enoch in connection with this battle is singular, and suggests Ihe
legend of Enoch in the Talmud. The disappearance of a national
hero, and his seclusion until he shall appear to take part in some
great conflict, though common to the tiaditions of most races (some of

i64 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

We might have expected to find Enoch and Elijah in
the Terrestrial Paradise, in company of the bird-flocks, as
in other n-ritings, but the construction of the Imram was
commonly loose. The introduction of them shows that the
fusion of the national traditions with the teaching of the
Church was now complete. This is equally apparent in
the description of another island, on which they landed :
' A great lofty island, and all therein was delightful and
hallowed. Good was the king that abode in this island,
and he was holy and righteous,' etc. (trans. W. Stokes, loc.
cit.). His diin had one hundred doors; at each door was
an altar, and at each altar a priest, celebrating the Eucharist.
This king and his diin again remind us of the castle of
the Graal.

We have now traced, in outline, the development of
the Othetwotid theory in Irish legend, from its primitive
conception as a Land of Cockayne, presided over by the
Dagda, with his inexhaustible ale-vat and ready-roasted
pigs, to its identification with the Terrestrial Paradise,
though without losing its distinctive features. One step
only remained to be taken before the Imram^ thus modi-
fied, should pass beyond the country of its birth, and
assume a prominent place in the literature of medifeval
Europe. This step was taken in the group of stories —
some legendary, others more or less historic, though in-
tenningled with legendary matter — which narrated the

the most ramiUur being Arthur, Dietrich of Berne, Holger Danske,
Fieilerick ll. — not Frederick l., Bnrbarossa), has always appesled
to the Irish imagiiution, nnrl recurs in the modern fclk-talei of Gearoid
larU, O'Sullivan, the MacMahon, etc. It will lie remcmbereiJ that
on Mr. ParneU's death many believed that the Chief was not really
dead, but had only disappeared foe a lime.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

1 65

voyages of the Irish Saints, or, rather, in that most famous
example of its class which purports to give an account of
the travels of St. Brendan of Clonfert, surnamed ' the
Voyager.' So entirely does it surpass all others in popu-
larity and influence, and especially in those circumstances
which connect it with our subject, that it may be taken
as the representative of its class ; as, however, it is later in
date of composition than the Ms Adamndin, and even
reproduces some passages of the latter, it may be left for a
later section.

The authors of the Voyages of the Ui Corra, and of
Snedgus and Mac Rf^la, had not only given an entirely
Christian tone to the Imram, but, without abandoning the
imagery of the Otherworld handed down by the national
traditions, had blent therewith a number of conceptions
derived through the medium of the Apocalyptic literature
of the early Church from both classical and Hebraistic
sources. Further, they prepared the transition from the
Imram to the Fis^

The Visions of the Saints figure prominently in the
hagiology of Ireland as of other countries; not all of
them, however, related to the Otherworld, or, in particular,
treated the Otherworld as a subject in itself, and not merely

' There is no intention to surest that the Eckira, the Imram, and
the Fis, or the tales in each group, succeeded one another in the order
in which they are refeired to in the teil, either in their present fonn
or in their original composition, least of all as regards the very ancient
materials which are embodied in all of them. It has been allenipled
to present them in such order as may best illustrate the develop'
■nent of the eschatological idea, aud the increasing fusion of native
traditions with the Church legends. A later writer, on account of his
subject, or for other reasons, might sometimes employ a more archaic
e than some of his predecessors.

i66 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

as the medium for conveying some moral lesson, or for
revealing the fate of an individual. Adamnan, in his Life
of St. Colin Cilk, one of his authentic works, states that
the saint was often rewarded with angelic intercourse, and
received frequent revelations concerning the fates of the
good and of the wicked,' However, the most famous of
these Visions, with the exception of that of Adamnan,
were those of St. Fursa {c. 570-f. 650 a.d.), which derived
additionalcelebrityfrom the mention made of them by Bede
in his Ecdesiastical History^

The exact place of St. Fursa's birth and race appear to
be unknown, though it seems that he was a Munsterman.
The principal scene of his early ministrations was the
neighbourhood of Loch Orbsen (Corrib), and he afterwards
spent some time as a hermit upon an island in the
ocean. At a later date he visited England, probably
about 633 A.D., as recorded by Bede, and won the favour
and respect of Sigebert, King of East Anglia. The
monastery of Burghcastle, in Suffolk, was founded under
his auspices, and his labours were attended with many
i among the Saxons. He next passed over to

^ Sanctorum quoque angeloium dulces et suavissimu frequentattones
luminosas habere meruit. Quonundajn justorum animas crebro ab
SDgelis ad summa coelorum vebi, Sancto revclanle Spiritu, vidcbat.
Sed et teproboram alias ad infema a democibus fcni saepenumero
aspicieb^L — Vita. S. Columbx, I. i. Pait \\\. of the Life is laigely
devoted to these visions, which, however, do not throw light upoo
our subject.

^ Bede, Hist. Ecd., III. Kix., where the author relates St. Fursa's
arrival !□ Englaod from Ireland, and give: an accouDt of his visions.
See, loo, the Very Rev. Canon O'Hanlon, Livet e/ the Irish Saints,
under t6th Janunry, where an account is given of seveial Acts, Visions,
etc., of St. Fursa, mostly of the usual mediieval type.

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

.67

Gaul, where he enjoyed a great reputation, and exercised
influence over King Clovis 11. In Gaul he founded the
monastery of Lagny, and a branch of it at Perronne.

Fursa's visions of the Otherworld must have appeared
to him before his visit to England, probably during the
solitude of his ocean retreat. However, he continued to
see visions, of one sort or other, during the latter part of
bis life. Indeed, it is probable that in his case, as in so
many others, the visions were largely produced by physical
causes — a constitutional tendency, stimulated by special
circumstances — for we read that the first of his visions
came to him in a trance, durbg an illness, and the rest
after long fasting.

In the first vision, his soul was conveyed out of the
body, and ' he was graced with the sight and the hearing
of the praises of the Heavenly Hosts.' Three days later,
he was again taken by three angels, who represented
the Trinity, and borne through clouds of hideous, mis-
shapen demons, who attempted to bar his progress, and
cast at him showers of fiery arrows, which the leading
angel caught on his buckler.^ On their way they passed
by Satan, who raised up his head, like that of a serpent,
and argued against Fursa's acceptance into Eternal Life,
by reason of the sins to which he was prone, and among
these, chiefly, a vindictive spirit ; but although he showed
that 'the Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose,' the
angeb answered his arguments, and they passed on. Then
Fursa, like Scipio in the ' Dream,' was bidden to look back
upon the world ; and it appeared to him as it were a dark
valley, and in the air about it four fires were burning.
These were the fires that destroy the world ; and the first
' Probabiy suggesled by Ephesians vi, 16,

i68 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

fire was Neglect of ihe Baptismal Vow to renounce the
Devil and his works ; the second fire was Covetousness ;
the third Dissension, and the fourth Injustice. Fursa
descried a fire approaching, and was dismayed ; but the
angel said to him, 'What thou hast not kindled shall not
consume thee ' ; for the fire tried everyone according to
his works; and 'as the body is consumed by self-willed
pleasure, so shall the soul burn with everlasting punish-
ment.' The doctrine is as old as the Rabbis, but the
moral lesson is here finely conceived and forcibly con-
veyed. Seven times more did as many demons in succes-
sion attempt to bar Fursa's progress, contesting his right
to admittance with various eristic arguments, supported by
texts of Scripture. It is to be remarked that the obstacles
which commonly obstruct the hero's access to the en-
chanted lands of fable, and often survive in theological
adaptations of the subject, have here assumed an aspect
almost purely intellectual and spiritual. All objections
having been satisfactorily answered by the angels, Fursa
found himself surrounded by a great brightness, and saw
vast multitudes of angels and saints flying with wings in
motion. Among these Fursa recognised several friends,
with whom he held converse. He then approached a
region of serener air, where the angelic host, disposed in
four choirs, were singing the Tersanctus. Here he received
long instructions in theology and morals, which he was
bidden to announce to the princes and prelates of Ireland;
he was then conducted back to his body. On the way, a
great fire approached in a threatening manner; the angels
diverted it, but from out of the midst of it demons shot
forth a sinner, aiming him at Fursa. The angels cast him
back, but not until he had struck Fursa's shoulder and

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND 169

burnt it. This was a sinner from whom Fursa had
accepted a cloak, while ministering to him on his death-
bed.'

Another of the Visions of the Irish saints, attributed to
St. Laisren, has been made available for the first time by
Professor Kuno Meyer,^ This Laisren, he thinks, was
probably the most celebrated of the many saints bearing
that name, the Abbot of Lethglenn (Leighlin) in the Co.
Carlow, who died in the year 638. From the mere frag-
ment that survives, it would seem that the complete
Vision must have treated the subject with great fulness,
though a part of Laisren's visit to Hell is alt that is left.
It is more in the style of Fursa's vision than that of
Adamnan, though it differs from both in certain respects,
notably in the manner of the revelation to the seer of the
vision. Laisren had gone to Cluain Chain, in Connacht,
to purify a church there, and after nine days' fasting fell
asleep. In his sleep he heard a voice say ' Arise ! ' and
upon this command being repeated, he raised his head,
crossing himself. The church was all lighted up, and
between the chancel and the altar stood a shining figure,
who said to him, ' Come towards me ! ' At this Laisren
was seized with a trembling, and in some mysterious

' This episode suggests the mannet in which Virgil protected Dsnle
from the onset of Filippo Argenti {Inf. viii. 40 :qq.), though the latter
passage does not contain any moral, in connection with Dante's own
pievious conduct, as ii the case in Fursa's vision, and in similar moral
legends of the Middle Ages.

' The Vision, cf Laisrin, in Slarits and Songs from Irish MSS. , by
Professor Kuno Meyer, Olia Mcrsetana, i. 1S99 ; ed. and trans, with
notes from Rawlinsoo B. 512, a fifteenth -century MS. in the Bodleian.
Professor Meyer considers that the original was an O, I. wotk of the
late ninth or early tenth century (p. 113).

I70 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

manner he became aware that his own spirit was parted
from the body, and was hovering over his head. The roof
of the church then opened, and two angels, taking
Laisr^n's soul between them, bore him aloft into the air,
where a host of angels received him. Further progress
was opposed by three hordes of fiery demons, armed with
fiery speats and darts, one of whom preferred against
Laisr^n a long charge, enumerating all the sins which he
had committed since birth, and of which he had failed to
make confession ; ' and the demon said nothing that was
not true.' However, 'an angel of the great host' suc-
ceeded in answering all charges, and dismissed the demons ;
he then bade Laisren's conductors take him to see Hell,
The two angels let him down into a glen lying towards the
north, which seemed to be as long as from the rising of
the sun to his setting. They entered into a pit like a cave
between two mountains, and at length came to a lofty
black mountain, in the upper part of which was a glen,
broad below and narrow above, and this was the porch of
Hell, In the midst of the glen Laisren saw very many
of the people of Ireland, wailing ; so many that he thought
a pestilence musl have brought them thither, but the angel
explained that ' whoever is under the displeasure of God
after thee, here do they behold (their) souls, and this is
their certain fate, unless they repent' (tr. K. M., loc. at.).
Laisren would fain have spoken to them, but the angel
forbade it, ' lest they despair.' However, he enjoined
Laisren to preach repentance to them, whereby they should
escape that evil. ' And again, he who shall live in
righteousness, he sees life while he is in the body, and
he shall be in life if he is steadfast in righteousness. Tell
them also,' said the angel, ' that he who lives in rigbteouS'

J

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

171

ness be steadfast in it, for there is not much time for
them to consider, until death comes to them' {Ibid.).

They entered into Hell, and saw a wild and billowy sea
of fire, and the souls aflame therein, wailing, their heads
above the surface. Some had fiery nails through their
tongues, others through the ears, or the eyes; others,
again, were being driven by demons with fiery forks.
Laisren, asking what these different torments might mean,
was told that those with nails through their tongues had
been less frequent in worship and praise than in blas-
phemy, falsehood, prying, and boasting. Here the fragment
breaks off.

In his preface to the foregoing work. Professor Meyer
appears to anticipate further discoveries in this field of
research ; however, of all the Irish Visions yet brought to
light, the Fis Adamndin excels the rest in interest and
importance even more completely than the Voyage of
St. Brendan excels all other members of its own class, and
may be regarded as the type of its genre, in its most highly
developed form.

Before proceeding to examine the contents of that Ms,
we may glance at two other works by Irish ecclesiastical
writers which show that a great part of the imagery and
incidents contained alike in the sacred Imram and in the
Fis belonged to a common stock of ideas current in the
Irish eschatology of that period.

One of these is the Seel Lai Brdlha ('Tidings of Dooms-
day'), a homily ascribed to 'Matthew, son of Alphasus,'
which is preserved in the Lebor na h-Udri, and was there-
fore written in the eleventh century at latest.^ In it

' Edited by Mr. Whitley Stokes, in A MiddU Irish Homily,
Rev. Cell., iv. 345 j^.

IJ2 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

occurs the familiar distinction between the Ma/i sed non
valde and the Mali valde, both of whom are condemned
in their several degrees ; the Boni sed non valde, who are
finally saved by virtue of their almsgiving, and the Soni
valde, who go direct to Heaven. This classification,
though not expressly made in the Fis Adamndin, lies at
the root of the scheme of rewards and punishments there
set forth. Indeed, Professor Zimmer points out the
frequency of this division in works written by Irish authors
or under Irish influences.' The Limbus patrum, the
Lhnbus infanlium, etc., represent similar attempts of the
mediseval theologians to provide for cases which do not
seem to them to be adequately dealt with by the broader
distinctions. Dante, in effect, adopts an analogous four-
fold arrangement ; the infernal regions inside and without
the City of Dis being allotted to sinners of greater or less
degree of guilt, while the system of Purgatory is adapted
to the respective cases of the Boni valde and the Boni sed
non valde respectively.

In its descriptions of both regions of the Otherworld,
the homily presents several points of resemblance to the
Ms Adamndin. ' In no wise pleasant is the path of the
sinful ; they find not food nor drink, but perpetual hunger,

' Cited by Mr. Nutt, Voyage of Bran, L 225, where it is suggested
that this circumstance may have arisen in the distiaction between the
Pagan Elysium and Heaven, a provisional Hell being added for the
sake of symmetry. But it appears quite as probable that this classifica-
tion may be another instance of the acquaintance of the Irish Church
with Eastern writers, for the fourfold division already exists in the
Book sf Enoch, c. 22, the several categories being ; (r) The martyrs,
as in the Fis Adaniiuim ; (2) The rest of the righteous ; (3) Sinners
who have been punished in this life ; (4) Sinners who have not made

i

THE LEGEND IN IRELAND

173

great thirst, and bitter cold. Then they are conducted to
the Devil's house amid the sound of despair and heavy,
long-drawn tnoaning. Piteous ate the crying and wailing,
the weeping and sighing, the mourning and smiting of
hands of the sinners, as they are dragged towards Hell's
torments. But theirs is the weariness of remorse without
avail ; for their prayer is not heard there, seeing that they
had not hearkened aforetime while they were in this life,
body and soul dwelling together.' Here, too, we have the
simile of the closing of the locks, which are here threefold :
' to wit, the closing of Hell upon them through ages ever-
lasting ; the closing of their eyes to the world upon which
they had set their love ; and the closing of the Kingdom
of Heaven against them.' The description of the torments
of Hell is copious and varied. Cold, gloomy tracts,
abounding in dark, fcetid lakes, alternate with regions of
glowing though murky flames,' where the sinners stand on
red-hot flagstones. Herein swarm monsters of various
kinds : adders, toads, cats which rend the damned, demons
who torment them and hew them with swords, and, above
all, the Piast, the old serpent^' a strange serpent,' indeed,
for he is depicted with one hundred necks, and one hundred
heads on each, and five hundred teeth in every mouth ;
one hundred arms he has, one hundred hands on every
arm, and one hundred claws on every hand.^

' Cp. Milton, Paradin Lost, i. 61-3 : —

' A dungeon horrible on all sides round,
As Ode great furnace, flamed ; yet from thcae flames
No light, but rather darkness visible.'

" Possibly this amplification of the usual description of the Piast
(cs something to the picture of Rumour, in Book iv. of the Aeneid.

174 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

There is little attempt made to discriminate between the
penalties accorded to dilTerent kinds of guilt.

Heaven is described in the same rhapsodical style as in
the Fis Adamniiiri, the I^iire Oengusa, etc.

Another moral treatise is the Dd £ran Flaiha Nime,
' The Two Sorrows of the Kingdom of Heaven,' i.e. the
two sorrows referred to ch. 33 of the Fis Adamndin. Here,
too, Elias is represented as standing in Paradise, the
Gospels in his hand, and he preaching to the birds that
perch on the Tree of Life, eating its berries.'

S- The Fis AdamnAin

The general plan of the Fis Adamndin is distinguished
from that of the other similar writings that have come
down to us by an architectonic character to which they can

' David Fitzgerald, Im. eU., pp. 192-3, where he cites from Kahn,
Dii Htmbkmift dcs Feuirs, a passage of the Vedas : ' Two birds sit
on the top of the imperishable a;vattba, one eating its Rgs, and the
other looking on.' He also cites from the Filirt Oengusa ; 'A great
tree that was in the Eastern world, and the heathens used to worship
it, so tliat the Christians ^led against all the Saints of Europe that
the tree might (all, tt ttatim cteidit.' This passage contrasts ciuiausly
with the terms in which the 'great tree' is described in other Irish
writings. The Fllin also speaks of Elijah, Gospel in hand, preaching
to the spirits under the Tree of Life in Paradise, while the bird-flocks
come to eat the berries of it, which are sweeter than honey and
headier than wine ; just as the ale of the Tir Taimgire is described as
headier than the ale of Eire.

The human souls in the form of birds are a variant of a belief of
world-wide extent. In Lithuania and the neighbouring countries the
belief still eiists, or existed lately, that the souls of dead children
return as birds. Nearer to the present instance is the Mohammedan
belief that the martyrs for Islam feast on the fruits of Paradise in the
shape of beautiful green birds.

THE FIS ADAMNAiN

'75

make no claim. The structure proper to the Imram was,
in great measure, that of a framework into which a greater
or less number of incidents could be fitted, according to
the author's taste, without impairing the general effect ;
the same, in a somewhat less degree, may be said of the
Echtra, which are more nearly akin to the romance of
adventure than to the epic. The early Christian writers,
again, solely intent upon edification, and being for the
most part men of little culture — for this species of com-
position, after all, was but a by-way of ecclesiastical
literature — were usually content to repeat a few topics
belonging to the common stock of ideas prevalent In their
day, and paid but little heed to literary effect, or even
to the clear conception, or orderly presentment, of their
subject.'

Thus, in the Fis Adanindin, we have the first serious
attempt made between the Vision of Enoch and the
Commedia of Dante, either to think the subject thoroughly
out, or to treat it in a literary spirit : an attempt on the
part of the author to construct in his own mind some
distinct idea of the Otherworld, and to present his con-
ception to his readers in a coherent form. In some
respects, indeed, the construction of it is superior to that
of its early predecessor, for, with due allowance made for
the topographical minuteness displayed by the author of
the Book of Enoch in his reproduction, in the description
of Hell, of the details of his model, the Fis manifests a
more complete grasp of the subject as a whole, while it
gains by the omission of the voluminous discussion of
things celestial and sublunary, in which the older writer

' Cp. hereon Professor Alessandro d'Ancora., J Precwnsri di DatUe
(Firenie, 1S74). PP' 29-30, loS, elc.

i

176 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

indulges, and which can only encumber a work conceived
with less breadth and executed with less power than Dant^,
and he alone, has brought lo the task.

All the same, it cannot be denied that these architectonic
qualities are still at a rudimentary stage, and the very fact
that ao moderate an exercise of constructive power should
suffice to set this work, as a literary achievement, so far
above all other precursors of Dante, does but enhance our
appreciation of the height at which the stately edifice of
his creation towers above all previous efforts.

The structural imperfections of the Fis Adamndin are
enhanced by the appearance of composite design which
the work bears in its present form, being apparently made
up from two distinct versions, or else having been 'per-
fected ' by some redactor by the addition of other matter.
The latter explanation seems to us most probable. The
first twenty chapters contain a complete and consistent
account of the soul's progress from death to judgment,
fuUowed by his relegation to the place which he has
merited. It is this part of the work which displays that
care for construction already noticed ; a great part of the
details, whether of native or foreign origin, which had come
to he accepted as conventional features of the Fis or sacred
Imram, is here rejected, and the borrowings from the old
romantic literature, though still abundant, are made duly
subservient to the general design. This part, moreover,
together with the peroration in chapter 32, bears testimony,
by way of direct reference and otherwise, to the author's
possession of a greater erudition, and a wider culture, than
were evinced by most of those who had treated of the same
subject. Thus, apparently, we are entitled to conjecture
that chapters 1-20, chapter 31 (probably), and chapter 32,

THE FIS ADAMNAIN

177

may represent the work which originally purported, not,
indeed, to have been written by Adamnin, but to contain
the account of a vision seen and already related by him.
If this hypothesis be correct, then the evidences of superior
culture and erudition, apparent in this part of the work,
and entirely consistent with what we know of Adamnan,
increase the probability that it is founded upon some more
or less accurate tradition of a vision actually related by
him. For, to repeat what has been said on an earlier
page, there is nothing but what is natural and probable
in the tradition that Adamnan beheld, or composed for
spiritual edification, a vision of the kind then so much in
vogue, and took the occasion of a great concourse of the
chief men of Ireland in order to promulgate it ; while it
is equally probable that a man of his culture and acquire-
ments should have expended upon his task an originality
and executive skill previously unknown, and altogether im-
probable that a work of one of the foremost and most
famous men of his day, after being thus publicly made
known, should have been left unrecorded save by the
passing mention of a chronicler.

To return to the structure of the Fis : at the end of the
first twenty chapters, all that was necessary, in order to
complete the design, was to bring Adamnan back into
Paradise, and to dismiss him with the admonition to com-
municate what he had seen and heard, as in chapter 31,
after which the peroration in chapter 32 naturally follows,
and forms a fitting conclusion to the whole. However, it
would seem that the redactor, following the example fre-
quently set by meditevai compilers, who knew not how
often the half is better than the whole, and were apt to
look on perfection as consisting rather in the abundance of

r

178 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

matter than in the due disposition or it, has attempted to
supplement the design of the original author by the intro-
duction of additional details which had long ere then
become matters of common form in descriptions of the
Otherworld. Even so, however, it must be admitted that he
has managed his transitions with more than common skill.
Although the wording of chapter 20 suggests that it was
the intention of the original author to represent the fate of
the lost in concise but impressive terms — a plan quite in
keeping with the general tone of restraint which pervades
the work — it might yet have been quite consistent with his
design to insert the usual description of the various tor-
ments with which the difTerent kinds of sinners are afflicted,
and such a description would follow on quite naturally in
the place where it actually occurs in the existing text. But
the author of this part, whether the original author or a
later editor, does not rest content with such a description ;
he introduces what amounts to a structural alteration of
the work, and that in a style wholly inconsistent with the
design of the earlier part. For in that part the road has
been fully traced by which the departed spirits have already
reached their final habitations; now, however, their pil-
grimage is resumed anew, and the familiar bridge incident
appears in chapter zt, where it discharges its usual double
function of an approach to the Divine Presence, and of a
sieve, or winnowing fan, as it were, for separating the wheat
from the chaff. Wholly consistent as this is with medixval
eschatology, it is entirely inconsistent with the general plan
of the present work, whereby that separation is effected by
quite other means. Minor inconsistencies occur in the
purgatorial nature of several of the punishments described
in this second part, for we might expect that all require-

J

THE FIS ADAMNAIN

"79

ments of the kind had been fulfilled during the soul's pro-
gress through the seven so-called Heavens. These small
inconsistencies, of themselves, would count for little, and
might be regarded as faults of construction on the author's
part, or as the result of the imperfect development of the
purgatorial theory, which leads to similar inconsistencies in
other writings of this class, where a clear distinction is not
often made between a normal process of purgation in the
intermediate state, and the postponement, in special cases,
of the final decision ; occurring as they do, they acquire a
certain significance as tending to accentuate the divergence
of plan in the two parts of the work.

A similar addition, attributable to the same motives,
would appear to exist in the last three chapters of the work.
As already suggested, chapter 32 would bring the work to
a satisfactory conclusion ; however, the mediaeval compiler
was commonly a simple-minded person; for him, as for
'honest Diggory,' the 'old grouse in the gunroom'
possessed an infinite variety which age could not wither,
nor custom stale, and, like a child or peasant, he objected
to a familiar tale being omitted in its usual place, or being
shorn of its proper incidents. The picture of Enoch and
Elijah beside the Tree of Life in Paradise, surrounded by
the bird-flocks of the righteous to whom Elijah preached
the Gospel, had become one of the most familiar and
picturesque features of the Irish Paradise ; therefore a place
must be found for it. The most obvious place would be
that part of Heaven where, as it is, the birds are described
as singing the hours in the Divine Presence, and there, we
can hardly doubt, the original author would have inserted
it, had he chosen to make use of the familiar image. How-
ever, it must, I think, be admitted that he exercised a wise

j8o an IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTK

discretion in omitting it, graceful and picturesque as it is:
for he has constructed his scheme of Heaven after what
must seem to us the most obvious and appropriate plan,
though one which, strangely enough, found little favour
with his compeers : he has made the enthroned Deity the
centre of all, so that to have introduced a further group
about a subordinate centre would have been to break into
the design. We may therefore be grateful to the hypo-
thetical redactor for appending the episode merely by way
of a coda, without obtruding it into what would have been
its proper place, but in which there was no room for it. In
so doing, he may have desired to give the work a devout
and edifying termination, and to close it, as it were, with a
sacred voluntary.

We may now proceed to recapitulate some of the prin-
cipal features of the Fis, even at the risk of a certain
amount of repetition, in order to show at a glance the
relation in which it stands to other writings of the same
class, both native and foreign.

The work opens with an exordium in praise of the
Creator, regarded chiefly in His capacity of Righteous
Judge, and Dispenser of rewards and punishments, the
aspect of Him most pertinent to the subject in hand.
Already, in this formal opening, we seem to recognise the
existence of a deliberate plan, whereby the present work is
distinguished from others of its class, and this impression
is strengthened as the author goes on to cite, by way of
precedent or authority, similar revelations that had been
vouchsafed to holy men of earlier date than Adamnan.
These authorities have already been considered in Section 3
of the present part ; apparently, however, the account of
the vision which the Apostles beheld upon the death of the

\

THE FIS ADAMNAIN iSi

Virgin Mary, to which the author had access, must have
been more ample than in the group of apocryphal writings
to which we have referred. We may note that the revela-
tion in question was made by the Angel of the West, the
conventional region of the departed. The citation of St.
Paul probably refers to the apocryphal revelation which
bears the Apostle's name, rather than to his own words in
his Epistles, for these neither mention a visit to Hell, nor
describe the state of the dead in either place; though,
indeed, neither did such a revelation form part of St, Peter's
vision, as described in the Acts, though our author's words
appear to imply that such was the case. The mention of
St. Peter's vision affords a curious instance of the manner
in which the imagery belonging to the national literature
was apt to give its own colour to an Irish writer's treatment
of foreign matter. The musical properties with which the
author, apparently on his own responsibility, has endowed
the cords which let down the four-cornered vessel from
Heaven, recall the musical stones of the Tir na n-Og, of
which further mention must be made later on.

It is noteworthy that the author, in bis list of authorities,
makes no mention of earlier Irish visions, or, indeed, of any
source which was attributed to post- Apostolic times.

A similar vision, we are told, was vouchsafed to Adamnin
on the Feast of St. John the Baptist, wheu his soul was
parted from bis body, and conducted by his guardian angel
to view Heaven and Hell, with their respective inhabitants.
Even such a pilgrimage was set before Dante by bis guide,^
aud though Adamnan's chronicler does not here make

' Cp. Inferno, i. 144 sqq.\ 'loco ctemo Ove udiiai le disperale
sirida. Di quegli uitichi spirili dolenli, Che la seconds morte ciascun
grids: E poi vedrai,'c[c.

i8i AN IRTSH PRECURSOR OF DANTS|

mention of a separate region devoted to eohr ehe soi
tenii Nel fuoco, pere/ii speran di venire, Quando che sia, alle
beate genti, we have seen that the case of these spirits was
dealt with by the Irish as by the Itahan writer, thougtt'
the extent to which the purgatorial theory was developed
between their respective epochs caused them to treat tbd>
subject with very different degrees of precision.

The selection of Adamnin's guardian angel as psydo'
pompos, rather than Michael, or some other of the Heaven^
Host,^ may possibly be ascribed to the preference whictt
our author occasionally evinces of an ecclesiastical to a
legendary treatment. On the other hand, we may note Ibft.
analogy between the soul's guidance through the OthM-
world by his guardian angel, and the like function ascribed'
by the Avesta to the beautiful maiden ' who was his own
conscience,' and was probably an allegorising development'

' In neatly all the visions the seer is provided with a guide tt
instructor, though there is a great viriety in the penoni invested with
this ofiice. The eailiest of these is the Archangel Michael in the Boold
□f Enoch, and he retains his functions in a lai^e proportion of tbt-
subsequent visions, and even in the conventional relations of a vi^
to Hades in Renaissance and post-RenaisBance literature. Dryden,
indeed, in his Essay on Epic Poetry, complains of the unfair share of
work in this department that is thrust upon him. In the Vision of
Esdras he is associated with Gabriel and ihirly-four other angels. In
the Vision of Fursa he is conducted by three angels who represent the
Trinity. In other narralives St. Paul or St. Peter figures. In the
later medieval visions the guardian angel appears in this capacity with
increasing frequency, and in particular in the Irish legends from the
time of St. Patrick, who received his revelations through the mouth of
his angel Victor. In ibc Shepherd of Hermas, the apparition of the
object of Hermos's affection, fallowed by that of the sibyl-like per-
sonificatian of the Church, U a very curious anticipation of Beatrice
instigating Virgil to undertake Dante's guidauee.

THE FIS ADAMNAIN 183

of the Fravashi, or spiritual aller ego, which was held to
belong Co every man.

Wc now begin to perceive the extent, hitherto un-
exampled, to which conscious design and literary form
enter into our autlior's method. The celestial country,
indeed, is described in general terras as ' a bright land of
fair weather,' like Magh Mell, and all other pagan Elysiums ;
but, as the theme develops, we perceive a wide divergence
alike from the material delights of the pagan Otherworld,
and the conventional amenities described in ecclesiastical
legends. As befits the Heaven of a creed which makes
the suminum boniim to consist in the enjoyment of the
Beatific Vision, the Deity is represented as the centre of
the whole, and al! persons and accessories are grouped
with direct reference to Him. In the Voyage of the Sons
of Ua Corra, the Lord is introduced, seated on the Throne,
and bird-flocks of angels making music to Him, and the
idea as there presented might stand for a development of
the Dagda myth, where the god sits beside his magic
appie-lrees and vat of ale, and the birds of the T(r
Taimgire sing to him.' In the present case, however,
it seems evident that the description contained in the
Apocalypse was the author's source of inspiration.^

Here again the author's ecclesiastical proclivities appear
in his description of the abode of the blest in a i

' Cp. the manner in which the D^ Danann chiefs ace often repre-
sented in the heroic lomances, sitting in state in their duns : e.g. Lugh
Mac Cethlenn, io the story of Conn, thus enthroned, with a, great tree
in the doorway of bis d4ii, and the birds singing on it.

' Revelation iv., xx., etc. Cp. the Book of Enoch, where One
clad in white robes sits in glory in the crystal mansion, whence a river

i84 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

recalling the interior of a church, with chancel rails, and
choir stalls wherein the righteous stand, like monks, in
cassocks and hoods of white,^ while the place was illumined
by seven thousand angels, who stood round about instead
of candles. The separation from the Throne, by means of
a portico, of the saints to whom their final seats had not
yet been awarded, appears to have been suggested by the
use in the early churches of the narthex as the station for
neophytes.^

The floor of Heaven, like 'fair crystal, with the sun's
countenance upon it,' seems to have been suggested by
the 'sea of glass, mingled with fire,' in Rev. xv. *, which,
in turn, had been anticipated, in some sort, by the POirika
sea in the Avesta, beside which the Tree of Life grew.
The grouping of the saints about the Throne would like-
wise appear to be an amplification of the description in the
Revelation.* The Apostles and the Blessed Virgin, we

' Revelation iy. 4 ; yi. 11, etc.

' A conception similat in kind, though different in form, is apparent
in the diio with a hundred doors, and at each of ihem an ^Itar, and a
priest celebrating mass thereon, in the VoyaEe of Snedgus and Mac
Riagla. Cp. the Castle of the Graal in the Perceval romances. The
accessories of Christian worship are frequently introduced into the
Heaven of mediaeval legends, though seldom with such minuteness as
in our text. Cp. the seventh- or eighth-centuty legend of Saints Theo-
philas, Sergius, and Hyginus, who came to a church built of crystal
and precious stones.— Aucona, Bp. cil., p. 32. This church, indeed,
was not meant to symbolise Heaven, but corresponds to the churches
on the mystical islands of the Irish Imrama. Praise and psalmody, as
among the joys of Heaven, of course have Scripture warrant ; it
remained for Swedenborg to crown the bliss of his elect, who in other
respects se rijeuissent moult lyistemint, with the privilege of listening
to sermons through all eternity.

' Cp. the Vision of Esdras, where the Apostles and Patriarchs and
all the righteous are arrayed about the Tree of Life.

i

THE FIS ADAMNAIN

•35

are told, occupy a special place, next to the Lord Himself;
the Apostles on His left hand, and next to them the
patriarchs and prophets, and on His right the Virgin, and
next to her holy maidens, 'and no great space between,'
a graceful and kindly touch. About them are babes and
striplings, and ' bird-choirs of the heavenly folk ' ; further
on, others of the righteous stand 'in ranks and lofty
coronals about the Throne, circling it in brightness and
bliss, their faces all towards God,' Here we have, in
essentials, the Celestial Rose of Dante's Paradise (canto 31);
the bird-choir, and, a little later, the guardian angels that
keep flitting to and fro among the several companies of
the righteous, remind us of the spirits which flitted in and
out of the petals of the Rose like bees.

Several other passages are impressed with the author's
ecclesiastical turn of thought. The Throne stands in the
south-east, probably because the direction of Jerusalem;
reference is made to the nine degrees of Heaven, i.e. the
Angels, Archangels, and Principalities; Powers, Virtues,
and Dominations ; Thrones, Cherubim, and Seraphim ;
the geographical distribution of the saints in accordance
with the four quarters of the world — a distribution distinct
from the fourfold division of mankind according to their
merits, to which allusion has been made — is probably of
the same character.

The sevenfold wall surrounding Heaven appears to
contain a reference to the seven Heavens; the different
colours of these walls may, as suggested, be a reminiscence
of the walls of Ecbatana, as described by Herodotus,
though it is quite possible that the idea may have occurred
to the author spontaneously.

In our author's representation of the Court of Heaven

i86 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

we already find, completely developed, that idea of the
subject which was perpetuated long afterwards by the
masters of Italian art. His picture of the enthroned Deity,
with the Virgin beside Him, the Saints standing round
about Him, and the celestial choirs surrounding the whole,
might well be taken for the description of some painting
by Fra Angelico ; nor are the gem-like radiancy of the
angelical painter's works, nor the august blitheness which
pervades them, entirely absent. Indeed, writings of this
class are not without value as a preface to the history of
sacred art, as indicating the origin of the stereotyped
fashion in which the masters treated certain religious
subjects — which fashion was not created by the arbitrary
choice of the primitives, and perpetuated through any
want of inventive power on the part of their followers, but
represented their attempt to portray these subjects in
accordance with the traditional form with which legend
had already invested them.

One very striking image, and, so far as I know, the off-
spring of our author's imagination, is the symbol whereby
he has endeavoured to represent the Divine Omnipresence —
' a majestic countenance, seven times as radiant as the sun,'
gazing from out a fiery mass, and facing the spectator, from
whatever side he might regard Him. The naiveli of this
attempt to represent the Inconceivable reminds us of the
triple orbs of iridescent fire in canto 33 of the Paradiso,
whereby Dante symbolised the Trinity. For pictorial
effect, however, the preference must, I think, be awarded to
the Irish writer, whose image, at once quaint and grandiose,
might be the subject of some design by Blake.

At the same time, the author does not neglect the stores
of imagery contained in the national traditions, though he

i

THE FIS ADAMNAIN

187

does not conform blindly to his precedents; for he differs
from the great majority of his predecessors and successors
alike in selecting his materials from whatever source appears
preferable to him, instead of heaping together a greater
or less quantity of matter taken at haphazard from the
common stock. The circle of fire which surrounds the
midmost Heaven is a familiar object in both the celestial
and the infernal regions, and is largely represented in Irish
legends dealing with the Otherworld, or with occurrences
of a supernatural order. Besides the striking instance in
the Voyage of Maelduin, and other cases to which refer-
ence has already been made, legends of the Finn cycle
mention wizard warriors who surrounded their camp every
night with a rampart of fire.^

The crystal veil which partly hides the Throne in chapter 5
may be a modification of the veil which often enshrouds a
mystical island in the Imrama ; or, again, it may have been
suggested by the veil hanging before a shrine in a Christian
church, or by the veil of the Temple, which curtained off
the Holy of Holies.

The Throne is supported by four pedestals, as was the
island Paradise of Mananndn Mac Lir in the Imram Brain,
in imitation of which an island supported upon a pedestal,
or pedestals, is introduced into most of the Christian
Imrama. The pedestals beneath the throne are of precious
stone, and from them sweet music proceeds, as from the
precious stones which separate the several companies of the
celestial choir in chapter 13, Vocal or musical stones are
common in Irish legend ; instances occur in the description
of Magb Mell, just quoted, and elsewhere in similar circum-
stances, and we may compare the Lia Fail, which would

' Amllam tut SinSrach, in Irtichi Texit, IV. i., 11. 6089 sqq.

i88 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

shriek when pressed by the foot of a lawful king. Parallels
occur in the legends of other Celtic nations : e.g. in the
Breton story of the Groach (Irish GmagacK), it is said that
every step leading to the palace of that fairy lady sang like
a bird when trodden on.

The very words in which the Fis attempts to express
the beauty of the celestial music are those of the old
romances i ' Though one should hear no other minstrelsy
besides, yet should he have his fill of melody and delight,'

The fiery arch above the Throne reminds us somewhat
of the watery arch over the enchanted islands of the
Imrama, in spite of all differences. Probably both were
suggested by the rainbow, but it may be that the author of
the present passage had in his mind the description in
Rev. X. I of the ' mighty angel . . . and a rainbow upon
his head.' In a note to the translation of this passage, we
suggested that the comparison of the arch to ' a wrought
helm, or royal diadem,' may contain a reference to the
picturesque and chivalrous custom of the Irish Ardri to
wear his helmet on state occasions, reserving his crown for
the day of battle.

The triple circle surrounding the Throne may be intended
to symbohse the Trinity.^ It is noteworthy that while the
generality of medieval legends describing the Otherworid
give little prominence to the Triune nature of the Deity,
the present Vision contains several references to the
Trinity, as do the Vision of Fursa, and several of the later
Visions composed by Irish writers or under Irish influences.

' Mr. Whitley Stokes aptly compares the three fiery
Paradho, xxxiii. w^sqq. However, these orbs represent the
manifestation of the Trimly, and do not appear as circles i

bs i

\

THE FIS ADAMNAiN i8g

Out author does not fail to include among the delights
of Heaven that bird-music which is so dear to Irish writers
of all ages. The birds of Heaven are here presented in
a twofold manner. In the first place, the ' bird-choirs of
the heavenly folk,' who mingle with the multitudes who
surround the chosen band standing about the Throne,
correspond to the bird-souls whom the legends commonly
place upon the Tree of Life, in attendance on Enoch and
Elijah. There are also the three birds perched upon the
Throne, where they sing the hours, after the usual fashion
of their congeners, beginning with the birds of Magh
Mell, in the Voyage of Bran, who, by the way, can only be
made to discbarge their pious function at the cost of an
anachronism. The birds now in question would seem to
occupy a middle place between the bird-choirs, of which we
have just been speaking, and the great sacred bird which
appears in the mythology of every race of mankind.^
Similar birds are present in the earliest and latest stages of
Irish myth, from the Dagda's palace in the Brug na Boinne
to the adaptation of the Phcenix legend which figures in
the Voyage of Maelduin. Probably our author's choice
of the number three conveys another reference to the

' It is curious to nole how Dante employs this symbol to represeol
the Impeiial eagle, in Purg. xxxii. 125 sqq., which, in its onslaught
upon the car of the Church, reminds as how the bird Karshipta breaks
off the bratiches of the Tree of Life in the Var of Yima. Surely this
coincidence, and also the frequency of the culture bird in the myths of
uticonnected races, afford good examples of the independent origin of
similar ideas. In the branch covered with life-giving berries, brought
by the eagles in the Voyage of Maelduin, wc may possibly have a
moditication of the popular Irish tradition, further influenced by the
PhoeniiL legend, or, maybe, some Oriental ttaditioD, derived through
intercourse with the Eastern Churches.

igo AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Trinity ; nevertheless, three was the number alike of the
birds of Oengus in the Brug na Boinne, and of the eagles

seen by Maelduin,

Certain features of our author's description of Paradise
represent the final stage in the before-mentioned process of
refining upon that conception of the happy Otherworld as
a Land of Cockayne, which is the most conspicuous feature
in the primitive Elysium of every race. In the fragrance
of the heavenly land, upon which the blessed sate them-
selves while hearkening to the music, and in the sweet
savour of the candles which illumine the city — the candles
themselves being angels in that guise — the old materiahstic
dea appears to be refined and spiritualised almost beyond
recognition ; nevertheless every degree in the descent — ot
ascent — from the pigs and apple-trees and ale-vat of the
Dagda can be distinctly traced.^

The present condition of the blessed, as manifested to
the Seer, is intended, it is said, to last until the Day of
Judgment only, when, and not before, their state will
attain to its utmost perfection (ch. 6). Of like duration is
' In some Cuntinentiil visions the Cockayne idea Eissumes a form
more accortlanl with Che Scriptural imagery, theinhabilanls of Paradise
renewing their youth by eating the fniit of the Tree of Life and
drinking the Waters of Life (Ancona, ep. cil.,^. 32). The last item is
evidently suggested by Revelation «ii. I, when the Waters of life
proceed from undei: the Throne, as in the Chald^ean myth. Bj a
certain meeting of extremes the Cockayne idea passes over info
asceticism ; thus, in order to express the abundance and luxury of the
mythical Elysium, it is said that a single ioaf, or the very scent of the
apple-trees, or the like, affords sutHcient sustenance ; in later develop-
ments we find in the Persian Paradise one loaf suffices for so many
persons, Connia lives for a month on the apple brought him by the
Leanamhin Sidh4, the fragrance of the candles in Adamnin's Heaven
yields sustenance enough, and so on.

i

THE FIS ADAMNAiN 191

the ' restless and unstable habitation,' ' on hill-tops and in
marshy places,' which is allotted, in ch. 14, to those who
find no place in the City, 'after the words of Doom.'
By these, apparently, the damned are not intended, or else
the present passage would be in contradiction with the
following chapters, which detail their progress to, and the
manner of, their final doom, while the abyss to which they
are consigned answers neither in kind nor in situation to
the description of a wild and desolate region adjoining the
celestial city ; neither can we suppose that the reprobate, in
their final abode, would continue to receive the ministra-
tions of their guardian spirits, as do the denizens of the
region in question.^ It would rather seem that they are
the mixed characters upon whom, at the individual
judgment immediately following death, no final sentence
has been passed. The reservation of a temporary abode
for suchlike occurs in the Avestan books, in certain Hebrew
speculations — as shown by the reference in the Book of
Enoch to the mountain of Sheol in the west, and by the
writings of several Rabbis — and in early Christian tradition.
Several instances occur in the Irish legends already
reported : e^. in the islands where hermits, in company
with the flocks of bird-souls, await the coming of Judg-
ment, and the similar island inhabited by the men of Ross,
who had been banished for justifiable homicide. The
passage affords some confirmation of the view that the
second part of the work is an interpolation, for in that part
the sinners who are capable of redemption are dealt with
in a different manner.
The veil of fire and the veil of ice, which separate this
* Thus, Tundale's guardian angel quiti him temporarily as he
cniere into Hell. See post.

192 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

desolate region from the City, resemble the flame which
surrounds the crystal mansion in the Book of Enoch, and
is there said to be as hot as fire and as cold as ice.* The
clashing together of these veils in the doorway which
separates the two regions bears the appearance of a remnant
of some Symplegades myth, but I am not aware that any
myth of the kind exists in a form which could account for
the image in question. The anguish with which the guilty
are filled by the din of their coHision is in keeping with
that extreme susceptibility to musical sounds which is
everywhere apparent. The effect of pleasure to the good
and pain to the wicked proceeding from the same cause
recurs in many subsequent passages.

In chs. 15-19 is traced the course along which the soul
proceeds on its way from death to Judgment. The several
stages of this journey are made to correspond with the
seven Heavens through which the soul would naturally
have to pass, each of those stages being attended with
some kind of punishment or suffering, which causes intense
pain to the wicked, while the good pass through it
unharmed-

The theory of the Purgatorial fires, founded on z Peter
iii. 7-13,^ was held by the early fathers, though, at first,
without defining the place or manner in which the purga-

' The Irish legends of the Otheiwoild, and the Fis Adamniin in
paiticulai, oifei so manj points of resemblance to the Book of Enocfa
as to lead us to conclade that that work must have been known to the
Irish Church. This is likely enough in itself, having r^^d to the
close connection maintained by that Church with the Churches of
Egypt and Syria, referred to in a previous section, where a parallel case
was pointed out, viz. the preservation, in an Irish translation, of the
Book of Adam and Eve, the original text of which disappeared.

* And compare St. Paul, i Corinthians iii. 13.

i

THE FIS ADAMNAIN

•93

tion was effected. St. Augustine was the first to establish
Purgatory in the intermediate state, and the doctrine was
further developed by St, Gregory. The early fathers held
that the good and bad alike must pass through this stage,
and herein our author agrees with them ; his theory, more-
over, whencesoever derived, agrees closely with that held
by certain of the Jewish Rabbis, who held that all, good
and bad alike, must pass through the seven lodges of Hell
—at least as appropriate a term as that of the seven
Heavens, which our author applies to them, though the
latter is better suited to cosmological requirements — with
the concomitants of fire, scourging, hail-showers, the
extremes of heat and cold, etc., through all of which the
righteous passed unharmed ; ' all of which is reproduced
in the present work. It is remarkable how little advance
upon the early Chaldgsan myth of the Otherworld is
displayed by this part of the subject, so far as regards the
machinery or material framework, so to speak, although, of
course, the ideas of sin and redemption which lie at the
root of the Jewish and Christian doctrines alike, constitute
a fundamental difference between the two stages of thought.
The resemblance between the Irish and Chakliean narra-
tives extends even to the porter who sat at each of the
seven doors of the Chaldsean Hades, where the passenger
had to leave some part of his earthly raiment ; in the Fts
his counterpart exists in the person of the angel who sits at
the gate of each of the seven Heavens,^ and chastises the
souls as they enter.

The second of these Heavens is the only one which

' The close agreemetit of this theory with the Egyptian belief has
btcn pointed out in Section 2 anli.
- Cp. the angel at the liooi of Purgatory {Pur^. ix. 103-4).

194 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

appears to be endowed with distinctly purgatorial functions:
here the angel Aberselus ' purges the souls of the righteous,
and washes them in the [fiery river], according to the
amount of guilt that cleaves to them.' Such, in substance,
had been the teaching of the Church for some i^es prior to
Adainndn's day, and such, too, the teaching of some of the
Rabbinical Schools — that of Shaoimai, for instance, which
held that those in whom good and evil were mingled were
cleansed by purgatorial pains ; in like manner, the author
of the Book ot Enoch describes a fire wherein they who
are capable of redemption are cleansed of their carnal
lusts.'

The flowery spring in which the purified souls of the
righteous are bathed for their solace, is a prototype, in
some measure, of the flowery stream of Lethe, in which,
according to Dante, the spirits whose purgation was accom-
plished were immersed in like manner.

Most of the trials endured in the first five Heavens have
their counterparts in the general literature of the Other-
world, down to and including the Commedia.

The fiery river or moat before the gateways resembles
the river of fire which encircles Heaven in the Book of
Enoch, and the similar river about the infernal city in
Aeneiti vi. 549-50,

The fiery wall, of which many parallels have already
been cited, again appears in this place, where it may be
compared, more aptly, with the City of Dis, its iron walls
and towers glowing red-hot, in c. viii. of the Inferno. The
fiery arch also recurs, the passage through which, and
through the fiery wall, is analogous to the similar trial for
1 Cp. the fire Ihiciugli which D3.nte ha.d to pass in the seventh circle
of Purgatory {Purg. xirii. ).

THE FIS ADAMNAIN 195

the purgation of fleshly lusts in c. xxviJ. of the Purgatorie.
The scourging of the spirits by the angelic warders is like
the punishment inflicted — though there by demons — in
/«/. xviii.

The description of the whirlpool in the fiery river (ch.
18) is thoroughly Dantesque in style, though none of
Dante's infernal rivers or whirlpools exactly corresponds to
it in details ; equally Dantesque is the realistic touch of
the angei lifting out the souls on the end of his rod, ' hard

Hitherto all the souls, good and bad alike, have been
conducted by their guardian spirits. At the door of the
sixth Heaven Michael assumes his accustomed function
of/yirAo/cOT/iJjfortheremainder of the way. This Heaven
is free from pain of any kind; apparently the author's in-
tention is to convey the impression of a solemn pause,
before the soul is ushered into the awful presence of the
Creator. The manner of his reception there recalls the
corresponding scene in the Avestan account. This recep-
tion, and the Divine Judgment, are described in the
briefest possible terms, but not the less impressively for
that,^ The fate of the reprobate is depicted in a manner
at once terse and complete, presenting a remarkable con-
trast to the rambling enumeration of horrors in which
most of the vision writers indulge. One circumstance, in-
deed, is marked by the grotesque horror characteristic of
medireval and Oriental imagery ; namely, the twelve fiery

' It is lemarkable Ihil seveial of the mobt impiessive incidents in
the Apocalyptic description of the Last Judgment are omitted from
the preaent, ai fiom most of the other mediaeval visions ; a circum-
stance which maj cause us (o hesitate before concluding pisitivel; that
our author had as frequent Tecoorse to the Book of Revelation as
many analogies would suggest.

n

196 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

dragons which swallow the guilty soul in successioD, until
the lowest finally lands him in the Devil's maw, the destin-
ation reserved by Dante for the worst of sinners.*

Upon the whole, however, our author seems to dwell,
by preference, upon the spiritual aspects of his subject. In
his eyes, the essence of the punishment consists in the
forfeiture of the Beatific Vision by those cki hantto ptrduto
il ben del inielletto, a loss enhanced by the previous glimpse
of it which has been vouchsafed to them. This, indeed, is
a common feature of ecclesiastical pictures of the Inferno,
where the idea, sufficiently obvious in itself, is sanctified by
the parable of Dives and Lazarus, though there it is intro-
duced with a special and diflerent purpose. Commonly,
however, it is used merely to intensify the sufferings of the
lost by a Tantalus vision of the contrast between their
own pains and the pleasures of the blest. Our author
would seem to introduce it as essential for their full com-
prehension of the good, otherwise inconceivable, which
they have forfeited by their own wilful default. Evidently
he understood that in this life and the next — Dante not-
withstanding — there is a maggior dolore than the remem-
brance, in time of sorrow, of past happiness, and that is the
comprehension of the things that once might easily have
been, but never have been, and never can be.

Finally, the lot of the sinner^'the perfection of all evil,
in the Devil's own presence, throughout all ages,' — forms

' Mr. Whilley Stokes, ia a note on this passage, aptly compares the
Egyptian demon Apap, which devoured the souls of the wicked. He
also cites an Old English homily, where a dragon swallows the
wicked and discharges them into the Devil's maw. The fertile
medieevai literature on the subject furnishes several parallels, more Or
less close, both o( a serious and comic nature.

k

J

THE FIS ADAMNAiN

197

the exact correlative of the Beatific Vision enjoyed by the
elect.

This climax leaves nothing to be desired for complete-
ness, and it seems impossible to believe that the next ten
chapters were the work of the same hand. Nevertheless,
the author of this second part, whether he be the original
author or a compiler, has treated his materials, trite as
these are, with more than common skill.

The approach to the land of eternal pain, to which the
Seer is now conveyed, leads across a desolate, fire-scathed
region, on the farther side of which lies a glen, filled with
* flame, that extends beyond the margin on either hand.'
Even this slight descriptive touch is an instance of the
imaginative, or visualising, faculty which is often apparent
throughout the work. This glen is spanned by the bridge
which serves to separate the bad from the good, in a
manner quite consistent with precedent, but entirely incon
sistent with the earlier part of the present work.

The description of that incident, as here given, differs
from other variants in several points of detail, and especi-
ally in the greater literary skill with which it is related ;
but as much has been said upon this subject as our present
purpose demands. We have seen that the idea of such a
bridge existed previously in Irish tradition, but the guise
in which it appears in the present place leads us to suppose
that the author's immediate source of inspiration was one
of the ecclesiastical legends, though we find the usual
difficulty of assigning any given item to some one specific
source. It is possible that the author found his immediate
prototype in the writings of St. Gregory, with which he was
likely to be acquainted ; equally possible that the idea was
derived from the traditions of the Eastern Church, with

198 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

which it is probable, both on A priori grounds and from
several internal indications, that he had come in contact;
or, again, from some floating popular tradition, originally
emanating from either of the above sources. However this
may be, the present is probably the best-told version of the
incident that we possess in any language ; nevertheless, it
fits in as badly with what follows as with what goes before.
The good — both the more and the less good — pass over in
safety, and the bad, of course, fall off, but there is nothing
to show how either sort reach their ultimate habitations.
The justified, in fact, are left to their own devices, and we
hear no more of them ; the reprobate, indeed, as they fall
from the bridge, are received in the jaws of eight fiery
dragons, which await them in the fiery gulf, but there is
nothing to show by what means they are subjected to the
specific torments mentioned further on, nor yet how the
redeemable sinners are brought to their state of temporary
punishment.

The classification of the three companies who attempt
to cross the bridge is not without interest. The virtues
of the righteous who pass with ease are the specially
ecclesiastical virtues of martyrdom and asceticism. Im-
mediate access to Heaven had been regarded as the
peculiar reward of martyrdom so early, at least, as TertuUian,
whose authority was Revelation vii. 14, 15; although in
the fourfold classification in the Book of Enoch the like
precedence is awarded to the martyrs.' The association of

' This is probsbly one of the additions made to the Eook of Enoch
in ChriBlian limes, cp. Rev. xx. 4-5, where precedence is given to the
martyrs, the olhec cighteous not being petmitted to live again until
after tbe lapse of one thousand years. Herein we have another form
of the doctrine of postponed redemption in certain cases, though not
here, to allow time for the purgation of sins.

J

THE FIS ADAMNAIN 199

the morti&caElon of the flesh with the pains of martyrdom
is easily explicable.

Sinners that have been induced to see the errors of their
ways and to amend, find the bridge narrow and difficult at
first, but easy afterwards, while those fall off who have
persevered in evil. We thus have only three of the usual
four categories which frequently occur in Irish eschatology,
as in the Book of Enoch : the boni valde, the boni sed non
vaide, and the fnali valde. However, the maii sed non
valde are represented, approximately, by those spirits of
mingled qualities, and those sinners that are redeemed by
their good works, who are dealt with specially in the

The torments meted out to evildoers are of the usual
description, though represented with that increasing ful-
ness and terror which had been perceptible for some time
previously in the Irish visions, or Imrama, the result,
apparently, of increased familiarity with the Continental
writers of this kind, who, so early as the Apocalypses of
St. Peter and St. Paul, had devoted much ingenuity to
this horrible branch of their subject. We may also per-
ceive an attempt at a more accurate classification of
crimes and punishments; in this respect, too, those
Apocalypses display more method than the visions of
subsequent writers. The classification adopted by our
author, which would seem to be his own, contains indica-
tions both of his nationality, and of his acquaintance
with foreign hterature. Four categories of evildoers are
enumerated, in which, although they exhibit nothing of
Dante's scientific precision, a certain system is apparent,
in spite of the several classes overlapping to a certain
extent. In chapter 25 fratricides and sacrilegious persons

200 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

are dealt with, including fraudulent Erenachs — the
guardians of the Church's temporalities — who had abused
the considerable powers which the tribal constitution of
the Irish Church had given them. The class described in
chapter 27 comprises, for the most part, those guilty of
various kinds of dishonesty or violence, though some of
them, such as false judges, sorcerers, and teachers of
heresy, would seem to belong rather to the two following
classes, the one of which comprises ren^ade ecclesiastics
and heresiarchs (chapter 28), while the other, and last,
deals with an apparently heterogeneous collection of
crimes, all of which, however, will be found to involve,
somehow, a breach of faith on the part of the offender.

The punishments described contain many striking
points of similarity to Dante, both in their kind, and in
the vivid manner in which they are portrayed. Of such
are the icy cowls in chapter 26, which recall the leaden
copes worn by the hypocrites in Inf, xxiii. 61 sqq. The
sinners stand in black mire,. like the beletta negra where
stand the gloomy-minded in Inf, vii. 1 24.^ The scourging
by demons occurs alike in the Fis Adamndin (chapter 26),
and in the Inferno (xviii. 35). A cold wind from the north
blows upon the foreheads of the damned, as in the frozen
regions of Dante's Tolommea.^ The fiery rain, and the
unavailing efforts of the sufferers to ward it off, anticipate

^ Cp. the similar fate of the flatterers (/«/". xviii. 113), and the stink-
ing Stygian lake in which the violent are immured {Inf, vii. no).

' We have seen that in Persia, as in Ireland, the * black north * was
the region whence cold winds and malignant beings proceeded. It is
a well-known fact that cold no less than heat entered into the Hell
of the Irish, as of the Northern nations, wherein they are followed by
Dante, who, indeed, makes the sufferings of the inmost circle, devoted

THE FIS ADAMNAIN zoi

Dante's vivid picture.^ With the throngs of (lemons in
chapter 28, who assail the heresiarchs with flights of arrows,
we may compare the Centaurs in Ivf. xii. 56.

The pictures of the sinners fettered to fiery columns by
means of fiery chains in the form of vipers (chapter 25),
and of those clad in fiery mantles, are entirely Dantesque
in spirit. In the punishment of those who are alternately
home up to Heaven, and then dashed down again to the
depth of Hell, our author appears to typify the tumultuous
distress and horrible restlessness which accompany hopeless
suffering.

Two classes of sinners remain, who are dealt with in a
manner wholly alien from Dante's scheme, though in
accord with the earlier teaching of the Church. Reference
has been made already to those in whom good and evil
bear divided sway, and who, as in the Avesta, are reserved
in a place apart until the Day of Doom, when 'judgment
shall be passed between them, and their good shall quench
their evil on that day, and then shall they be set in the
Heaven of Life, in God's own presence, through ages
everlasting.' This merciful solution of their case affords
a strong contrast to the loathsome doom to which Dante

Manure for Meaiure, l

c cold. Cp. Shaltespeari

' The dellgbled spirit
To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside
In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice.'
So Milton : ' Id fierce heal and in ice. '

' 'Senza riposo mai era la tre^ca Delle misere mani, or quindi 01
quinci Iscotendo da se I'arsuia fresca ' (!»/• xiv. 40-42) ; and in Inf.
ZTiL 47-4S : ' Di qu^ di la soccoirien con le mani, Quando a' vapor, e
quando al caldo suolo.'

aoz AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

consigns these Laodiceans.^ One passage Dante himself
might have been willing to own, had it not been so dis-
cordant with his doctrine; the pictuie of those charitable,
but sensual, persons who are set upon islands — an echo
of the fmrama — in the midst of a fiery sea, but protected
from its waves by a silver bulwark, built of their own alms-
giving, until Judgment, when they shall be delivered.

These two conceptions, though not peculiar to the Irish
Church, having been often promulgated, in various forms,
by Jewish and Christian doctors alike, are characteristic of
that leaning towards mercy, which, in one form or other,
often appears in Irish ecclesiastical legends,^

Our author declares that the state of the blest and of
the reprobate alike, as revealed to him, is provisional only,
and that after the Last Judgment the happiness of the
righteous will be infinitely augmented, and the sufferings
of the evil intensified in proportion,* when they shall be
consigned to the fiery wall, which until then is inhabited
by the demons only,*

* !n/. v., whetc Dante coupleE with them the angels who abltmiiled
from taliinjj either pirt on Saian's revolt, but fir si fere. lo like
manner the Iiisb writers, as in the stoiy of St. Brendan, extended
their more merciful judEment to these spirits also. The popular
traditions of moUcrn times identify them with Ihe Daoirte Sidht, but
without afireeing as to their ultimale fate after the Judgment.

^ Cp. the devices to which Christian rcdaclois of Pagan legends had
recourse, in order to bring the national heroes within the pule of salva-
tion : i.g. Cuchulainn, Concobar, Finn Mac Cumlial, Caoilte, CormEu:
Mac Airt, Finlan, Tuan Mac Cairill, etc. The early Christian writers
dealt in like manner with Seneca, Trajan, Slatius, Lucan, etc. ; to
whom Dante, apparently on his own responsibility, added Rhipeus.

' This is the doctrine of St. Augustine, which Donle followed in
in/, vi. lo6 siji/.

* Cp. the I)ri2en wall wrapped in flame in the Revelation of Si. Paul.

J

THE FIS ADAMNAiN

203

Chapter 30 gives a vivid representation of the mental
sufferings of the lost in their mournful habitation, their
own suiferings being augmented by the company of others
in like case, and by a restless longing for the coming of
Doom to end their suspense. Herein the author recog-
nises a truth, the opposite of that truth contained in
Hamlet's dictum, though not less true ; for often it is less
tolerable to ' bear the ills we have, than fly to others that
we know not of,' even though the change may surely be
for the worse.'

Then follows a short description of the dolorous country,
which is depicted as a waste and desolate region of the
kind traversed by Cuchulainn on his journey to the realm
of Scathach, and by Art on his way to the Tir na n-Og.
The general character of this description is rather Miltonic
than Dantesque.'^ Many instances appear to indicate that,
to the northern spirit, the extreme of terror is suggested
rather by the hauntings of wide and desolate spaces, than
by the more realistic— we might almost say materialistic —
imagination apparent in the intensive presentation of
specific and concrete sufferings, which Dante was led to
adopt, alike by his racial and personal temperament, and
by his theory of the Otherworld.

' Cp. Revelation ix. 6, upon the authority of which text a simiiar
passage is introiluced into many of the medixval descriptions of Hell.
Cp. Ihe Book of Adam, where Ihe damned ' call aloud for ihe second
death, and the second death is deaf to iheir prayer ' (Ancona, op. tit,
107). So Dante, 'che !a seconda motte ciascun gride' {/a/, i. 115).
Cp. loo Donle, /it/, iii. 134-6, where the guilty are eager to cross the
tiver to Iheir place of suffering : ' Ch^ la divina giusligia gli spiona SI
che la tema si volge in disio,' when, however, Dante was probably
following Virgil, Acueid, vi. 313-14.

^ See, especially, ParaiHsc Lett, ii. 587 sqq.

304 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Precedents for Ihe Devil's abode id the depths of the
infernal seas are furnished alike by the Scriptural Levia-
than, and by the Piast, which haunts almost every Irish
loch of any depth, as also by the lake of fire and brim-
stone in Rev. xx. lo, into which Satan is to be cast at the
end of the world.

The four rivers of Hell, which likewise occur in the
Voyage of the Ui Corra and in several Continental visions,
have been supposed by some authorities to be intended
as a counterpart lo the four rivers of Paradise in Genesis ii.
lo sqg. ; this, however, seems doubtful, having regard
to the absence of any mention of the suggested prototype,
neither does it appear that the Scriptural Paradise was
present to the author's mind. It seems more probable
that the number has reference to the fourfold division of
the upper world; indeed, in some later mediieval visions,
these rivers are placed in accordance with the cardinal
points. They may possibly be due to a reminiscence of
the classical Styx, Acheron, Cocytus, and Phlegethon,
as in Milton (P. L. ii. 575 sqq.), and Dante (Inf. xiv.

The tormenting of the spirits by the eager hosts of
demons that infest the infernal lakes may be compared to
the sportive malice of the fiends in Inf. xxii.-xxiii.

In chapter 31 Adamnan is re-conducted, by another
skilfully managed transition, to the Land of Saints. He
desired to tarry there, but like several of his predecessors,
from Plato's Er downwards, he heard a voice which bade
him return to earth and relate what had been revealed to
him, for the instruction of his countrymen : he was then
restored to the body.

Chapter 32 would provide the work with a symmetrical

J

THE FIS ADAMNAIN 205

conclusion. As in the exordium the author represents
Adaninin as the last in a series of holy men to whom
analogous levetations had been vouchsafed, so in this
peroration he declares the identity of the doctrine preached
by Adamndn, respecting the world to come, with the
teaching of other saints and fathers of the Church. In
designing his woric with this structural completeness, the
author stands alone, so far as I am aware, until Dante
comes on the scene.

The episode of Enoch and Elijah standing under the
Tree of Life, surrounded by the bird-flocks, though well
told, adds nothing to the form in which it appears in other
Irish legends of the period. We have already given
reasons for supposing that it is an excrescence upon the
original design.

The reflections there made upon the sorrow experienced
by the righteous on hearing of the sorrows of Doomsday,'
remind us of a similar passage in Dante :

' Se di 1^ sempre ben per noi si dice,
Di quk che dire e far per lar si puote,
Da quei, ch'hanno al voler buona radice ? '

/■ar^.xi. 31-33.

The rhapsodical description of Heaven, which concludes
the work as it now stands, is likewise a matter of ' common
form.' It may possibly be an amplification of several
the Revelation {e^. xxi. 4, etc.), though we

' ' Now seeing thai they who roilie this moan ace the Saints, \a
whom arc allotted everlasting mansions in the heavenly Kingdoni,
how much more meet wete it fortnen that nte yet on earth,' etc., ch. 34.
Cp. the similat passages in the FiHrt Oengusa and the Scil* lAi
h'rdlha referred to in the preceding section.

io6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

have seen that sotnelhing of the kind existed, in a rudi-
mentary form, in some of the Eehtra, when describing the
Sidhe of a De Danann chief. The curiously close parallel
in the Avesta has been noted already.

This chapter, as before mentioned, does not form part
of the version preserved in the Leabhar Breac, and although
that MS. is by far tbe more recent, it is quite possible that
the scribe followed a version transcribed before the addition
was made.'

6. Later Developments

Tbe Fis Adamndin represents the culminating point to
which the Vision of the Otherworld was brought by
writers of the Irish school : henceforth the achievemeots
of that school are principally apparent in the influence
which they exercised upon the course which the legend
took upon the Continent, and thus, indirectly, upon the
development of European literature. Enough has been
said in an earlier part of this work to show that abundant
means existed for familiarising Continental students with
any branch of letters to which the Irish schools might be
addicted, and accordingly we now find the Irish legend of
the Otherworld disseminating itself through the medium as

' Verbal differences between the Iwo versions are frequent thtqugh-
out, though generallj the later copy is (he fuller, owing to the
insertion of a certain amount of ' padding. ' Far wider diver^nces
exist between the different versions of most of the medieval legends,
e.g. the Vision of Paul, the Voyage of St. Brendan, and the Vision of
Tundale. This circumstance strengthens ihe internal evidence of
interpolations in tbe Fis AdatimAin. At the same time, it adds to the
difficulty of determining Ihe relative priority of the incidents contained
in the several Visions.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

207

well of works written upon Irish soil, as of the writings of
Irish scholars in Continental foundations, and similar
works composed by foreign authors more or less under
Irish influences.

The first of these productions is the last of the great
Imrama, and by far the most famous, though not the best
from a literary point of view.' Not only did the legend of
St, Brendan, of Clonfert, surnamed the Voyager (483-574),
become one of the most widely diffused and most popular
tales of the Middle Ages, but it even influenced, in some
slight degree, the course of the world's history, for its
account of a land beyond the Atlantic fired the imagina-
tion, and directed the course, of Spanish and Portuguese
navigators many centuries after its own date.^

At one period of his labours, St. Brendan ajjpears to
have been seized with that taedtum vitat which is apt, at
times, to weigh with special force upon diligent workers

' The Acts of St. Brendan, and the accounts of his voyages, have
often been translated by modern scholars. Besides the collections of
hagiologists and Church historians, standard works on the subject are
Jubinal, La UgetuU latini de Saint Brendaines, Paris, 1836 ;
Schroder, Samt Brandon, Erlangen, 1S71 ; Moran, Acta Sancti
Bretidani, Dublin, 1872. Tbe Irish Life is edited, with a translation
and Dores, bjp Mr. Wbitlef Stokes, in Antcdela Oxottiensia [Afediicva
and Madtm Series, pi. 5). In the Rev. Denis O'Donc^hue's Brind-
aaiana tbe subject is treated in an interesting and compendious manner.
Tbe summary of the principal incidents of the voyages given in the
text, is taken, for tbe most part, from Mr. Stokes's edition of tbe Iiisb
Life.

^ The imaginary island of St. Brendan was delineated in the maps
of the Middle Ages, and even of later periods. It was claimed by the
Portuguese, but afterwards ceded to Spain. Many yoyuges were
undertaken in quest of it, one so late as 1721. — Ancona, op. cil.,
p. 5a

J

»o8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

for righteousness. In his case it asserted itself, character-
istically, in that impulse which even now urges so many of
his countrymen to follow his course across the Atlantic,
but on a voyage whence there is no return, and to another
world which seldom affords a vision of Paradise, at any
rate. In this frame of mind he prayed for a land, ' secret,
hidden, secure, delightful, apart from men ' ; he then fell
asleep, and, in a dream, was directed to repair to Sliabh
Daidche (now Brandon Hill, in the Co. Kerry). This
he did, and there met an angel, who bade him build three
ships, and commit himself to the ocean. The building
and manning of the ships, and the early stages of the
voyage, wherein the old model of the Imrama is closely
followed, are interesting, but cannot be given here. One
day the voyagers landed upon ihe back of a sleeping whale,
taking it for an island, until the monster, awaking, bore
them off across the sea-' Thus they journeyed for five
years, being sustained the while by food miraculously sent
to them, as to the island hermits of the earlier Imrama. At
length St. Brendan espied the Devil approaching them
across the waves.^ He hailed the demon, and questioned

' Father O'Dotlf^hue points out that the whale episode appears
too ea.il]' in medii^val churches to be due to an imitation of Sinbad.
It occurs in a mediieval life of St. Machutus, or Malo, which, however.
Father O'Donoghue considers an imitalion of St. Brendan, into
whose legend the incident entered at a very early period, being
mentioned in a poem by St. Cumin, who lived in the seventh
century {Brendaniana, pp. 8S-91), where the author refers to parallels
occurring in the MediiPval Bestiaries. Signor D'Ancona {ufi. nl.)
says that the episode occurs in the Romance of Alexander, which is
likely to be the origin of the Western variants. However, the idea is
one which may well have presented itself spontaneously in several
distinct quarters.

' Apparently a travesty of Mananndn Mac LIr as he appeared to

LATER DEVELOPMENTS zog

him, who replied that he had come to seek his punishment
'in the deep closes of the black, dark sea.' This roused
the Saint's curiosity, but the Devil told him that none might
see those things and live; he was prevailed on, however,
to guide the Saint to the gate of Hell. Here Brendan saw
' a rough, hot prison, full of stench and filth and flame,'
and ' the camps of poisonous demons ' ; here were wailing
and 'handsmiting of the sinful folk;' and a gloomy,
mournful life in cores of pain, in prisons of fire, in streams
of the rows of eternal fire, in the cup of eternal sorrow
and death' (tr. W. S.). The land was full of hlack
swamps, surrounding fiery forts, and fiery mountains, over
which demons were dragging the souls of the lost, without
respite. Then follow long and gruesome descriptions of
the suiferings endured in that place ; these are of the usual
type, including all the horrors of a wild and desolate region,
with inclement weather, combining the extremes of heat
and cold ; foul, poisonous lakes ; fierce winds ; wild, rough
brakes, and mountains haunted by monsters, etc., etc. Pro-
ceeding on their way, they visited various islands; round
one of them, very lofty, they cruised for twelve days, with-
out finding a spot where they might land, though they saw
a noble church in it, and heard voices praising the Lord.
After visiting several islands, the Saint returned to
Ireland.^

Bran in the Itnram Brdin, but qitantttm mulatus, or, literall]',
diabUmmt ihatigi tn raule. Already have the Celtic deities followed
tlie Olympians, and become cooverted into demons.

' Cf. Virgil, AcTieid, vi. 557-8, and Dante, Infimo, iii. 22-38.

' We may note one curious incident which illustrates the sympslhjr,
before mentioned, with which Irish Churchmen treated the beings who
pertained to that older faith which it was their mission to destroy.
One day St. Brendan came upoo a maiden of vast stature and exceed-

jio AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

However, the spirit of wiindering was not yet laid, and
St. Brendan set forth upon a second voyage. In this, as on
the first voyage, the Otherworld type of the lands which he
visited is evident. In one ' little, insignificant island,' the
harbour was ' filled with devils in the shape of dwarfs and
pygmies, with their faces as black as coal.' At length
Brendan came to an island whereon was a pilgrim covered
with white hair, who directed him to the T£r Taimgire.
Here he found an old man, who bade him enter into
possession of the land, for those were ' the plains of Para-
dise, and the delightful fields of the land, radiant, famous,
loveable, profitable,' etc. ' A land of odorous flowers,
smooth, bland. A land of many melodies, musical, shouts
for joy, unmournful' (tr. W. S.). There were 'health
without sickness, delight without quarrelling, union without
wrangling, princedom without dissolution, rest without
idleness, freedom without labour, luminous unity of angels,
delights of Paradise, service of angels, feasting without
extinction,' and so on, in the rhapsodical style of ch. 35 of
the Fis Adamndirt. The old man was covered with white
hair, like a dove or sea-mew,' and had ' almost the speech

ing beaut]' floating upon the sea, ileai], and a spear through her.
He restored her to life, and asked ber who she was : she replied that
she was one of the dwelleta in the sea, who were praying for Ihe
Resurrection. He baptized her, and gave her the choice — to die, and
go at once to Heaven, or to return to ber own people. She chose lo
go direct lo Heaven, so he administeced to her the last Sacianient,
and she died.

' Mr. Whitley Stokes suggests that ' his feathers may he a reminis-
cence of some hermit's dress of bird-skins' {of. cil., p. 354). Or,
maybe, of some anchorite who may have lived into extreme old age,
as doubtless many did, in the condition of King Nebuchadnezzar
after his fall, until his long white hair and beard suggested the

LATER DEVELOPMENTS an

of an angel.' At the stroke of a bell tierce was celebrated,
when ' they sing thanks to God, with their minds fixed on
Hitn,' a repetition of the words of the Fis Adamndin;
indeed, a long passage at the conclusion of the voyage
coincides almost word for word with the Fis, of which,
according to Mr. Whitley Stokes, it is a copy, and not
vice versa.''-

The Latin narratives of St. Brendan's voyages^ differ
widely from the Irish account ; on the whole, the Other-
world element is much less prominent in them, though
they contain several details of the kind. Of such are the
island standing on four pedestals, and an island with a
tall column on it, from which a veil or canopy like silver
hung; a volcanic isle with demon smiths at work, hammering
upon their anvils the souls of the wicked, who threw masses
of glowing metal after the ships ; hermits fed with salmon
by a cat, etc. There is also a variant of the story told in
the Voyage of Maelduin about the Torach gravedigger.

The Paradise of Birds appears with a new significance.
The birds are those angels who, upon the rebellion of
Lucifer, per si faro, and fell without active guilt on their
part, and were relegated to this island, there to dwell until
the general Resurrection, suffering no pain, and celebrating

plumage of a while bird. Oi, again, it is just possible that this bird-
like hermit, dwelling in an island Paradise, may be an attempt to
euhemerise one of the many avatars of the sacred bird.

' The influence of the Fi'i Adamndin likewise appears in the open-
ing portion of the Life, which cites precedents for the Saint's devout
and holy iife among the worthies of the Old and New Testaments.

° The principal Latin Life of St. Brendan, though later than Ihe
Irish Life, was written in the eleventh century. Both Lives, how-
ever, contain elements which the Lives of other Irish saints prove lo
have been of much earlier date.

2ia AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

the canonical hours ; a happier lot than that which Dante
bestows upon them in canto iii. of the Inferno,

The story of Brendan, it will be seen, though somewhat
later than the Fis Adamndin^ is but an Imram of the
ordinary type, though containing several original features,
and richer in incident than most of its predecessors. How-
ever, its chief claim to consideration rests upon the work
which it effected in securing for Irish legend a permanent
place in European literature.

With the Voyage of Brendan the Imram type of romance
culminates, and ceases to occupy its former important
place in Irish literature.^ Henceforth, the Otherworld
tradition, whether in Irish or foreign hands, is continued
by means of the /w, the form properly its own, from the
time of Plato downwards.

In this form it inspired a work which almost rivalled the
Voyage of Brendan in the popularity it achieved, and the
influence it exercised upon later writers. This was
the Vision of Tundale, written at Ratisbon by an Irish
monk, a Munster man, named Marcus, apparently about
the year 1149, in which the vision is dated. It was written
in Latin, and immediately became widely popular, being
translated in the course of its own century, and several
centuries following, into the languages of most European
countries, from Sweden to Spain and Italy.^

^ Imrama still continued to be written, and the late mediaeval story
of Tadg Mac C6n (published, with a translation, in Mr. Standish
Hayes 0*Grady's Silva Gadelica), presents a very admirable specimen
of its class. That work, however, is a more purely literary produc-
tion, consciously imitative, and deliberately archaic in style.

® The summary in the text follows the Irish version contained in
La Vision de Tondale, V. H. Friedel and Kuno Meyer (Paris, 1907),

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 213

This Tundaie, so-called — whose proper name Professor
Kuno Meyer conjectures to be Tndthgal or Tnudgal
(pp. cit., p. gi) — was a knight of Cashel, said by the author
to have been ' noble of blood, hut bloody of deeds ; fair
as to body, but careless about his soul. Fierce and terrible
towards the Church, for he would endure none of the poor
folk of the Lord in his sight.' Once, when on a visit to a
friend in Cork, he fell into a fit while sitting at table ; he
was taken up for dead, but was not buried, as a slight
warmth was perceptible in his left side. He remained in
a trance from the fourth hour on Wednesday until the
same time on Saturday, when he recovered slowly, par-
took of the Sacrament, and gave thanks to God, after
which he gave all his goods to the poor, assumed the
cross, and 'turned his hack on his former life.' It was
during this trance that he beheld the vision which he
related to Marcus.

Immediately after the departure of Tundale's soul from
his body, his conscience expressed great dread by reason
of the magnitude of his sins. Fain to re-enter his body,
he could not, but flitted unsteadily, swiftly, to and fro,
weeping and weary, in fear and lamentation. Great hordes
of demons surrounded hirn, who welcomed him, terming
his soul ' daughter of death and enemy of God, spouse of
darkness and foe of light,' etc. They tore his face with

which also contains two French versions In prose, axA a fiagment of an
Anglo-NormaD version in verse. The Irish translation was made in
151-, by Muirgheas Mac Piidin in Maoilchanaire {op. cit.. Introduc-
tion). The original Latin has been edited by Scade, Halle, 1869, and
A. Wagner (with an O. G. version), Erkngen, 1882. For translations
into modem languages see tp. HI., Intioductioo, and Ancona, of. cit,,
P- 53 ".

JI4 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

their talons, and taunted him with his sins. At length he
saw a light, like a star, approaching; this was his guardian
angel who bade him ' welcome frona God.'

Tundale, between fear and joy, replied, ' A sorry case,
my lord ; the pains of Hell have surrounded me, and I am
in the snare of death.'

The angel answered, ' I have ever been with thee, yet
never until now hast thou called upon me thus.' Then,
pointing to the ugliest oi" the demons, he added, 'That is
the deed and the counsel [devised] independently of me.'
However, he promised that Tundale should receive mercy,
though he must suffer somewhat first. He then bade him
follow, and retain firmly in bis memory whatever he should
see.

Upon seeing Tundale escape them, the demons began
to blaspheme God, and to smite one another, and finally
departed, leaving a foul smell behind.

For long Tundale journeyed on in darkness, lighted only
by the radiant garments of his guide. At length they
came to a glen 'darkened with the mist of death,' and
filled with sparks of fire. An iron covering, six cubits
thick, was on it, hotter than the sparks themselves, and a
stench issued forth that was a more grievous torment than
Tundale had ever known. A huge multitude of wretched
souls were sitting on that lid, burning, 'till they were
melted, like garlic in a pan, with the glow thereof.' Others
were strained through the lid, like wax through a linen
cloth, and then tempered in the sparks below for a repeti-
tion of the infliction. These were parricides and slayers
of their kin.

There was a vast and hideous mountain, one side of it
all sulphur and stench, fire and darkness, the other side

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 215

covered with snow, and a piercing wind blowing. In-
numerable demons, armed with burning forks and sharp
tridents, would hale the souls of them that had been false
and treacherous from snow to fire and back again.
Another glen was full of darkness and foetor, and ' such
was its depth that none could discern the bottom of it,
though he could hear the sound of streams, and [perceive]
the stench of otdure, and the outcry and wailing of the
souls that were in torment there,' and a mist uprose from
it. A plank stretched across between the mountains that
bounded the gien, a thousand feet long and a single foot
in breadth, and such as none would dare to tread unless
driven thereto by force. Tundale saw many souls falling
from the bridge, and a priest passing over it unscathed.
Those who fell into the glen were the proud and arrogant;
nevertheless the angel bade Tundale not to fear that trial,
though he must bear other torments thereafter, and he
bore him safe across. Again they went on through dark
and tortuous ways, until, weary and wretched, Tundale
espied an ' uncouth, intolerable monster,' greater than the
mountains which they had crossed; his eyes were like
hills of flame; his mouth, wide yawning, might contain a
legion of armed men. Two giants stood therein, huge as
the pillars of a church, reaching from the lower tooth to
the upper, Flames issued from its mouth, into which
crowds of souls were pressing, driven by the scourges of
throngs of demons.' A sound of wailing could be heard
' Id Christian art, Hell was orten symbolised by a picture of the
DragoD, his open mouth tilled with flames, into which Ihe wicked
were impelled. This imiige survived in buok illuslratioDE into Ihe
eighteenth century at least. It occurs in many of Ibe mediaeval
visions ; possibly the Vision of St, Paul may have t>een the immediate
authority. It appears so early as the Vision of Esdras, if not befoic.

ai6 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

proceeding from the monster's belly, for many thousands
of souls were in there already.

Tundale, in dismay, asked why they approached so near ;
the angel told him that his visit was not complete unless he
passed through the monster, for none but a chosen few
escaped, Acheron was the monster's name ; it devoured
the covetous, and the giants standing in its jaws were
they who had been false and without conscience. After
bringing Tundale to the monster's mouth, the angel left
him alone there, when a horde of demons surrounded him,
scourged him, and drove him into the monster's belly.
Here he found himself in company of many other souls,
who were bitten by hounds, lions and vipers, scourged
by demons, suffering the while from the extremes of heat
and cold, foul stenches, etc. Here the soul accused him-
self of all the sins he had ever committed, in grief and
lamentation, tearing his face with his nails.

At length Tundale found himself outside the monster,
and languidly opening his eyes saw the angel, who bore
him to a broad, stormy lake, wherein were monsters in-
numerable, seeking to devour the wretched souls. ^ A
bridge spanned the lake, two thousand feet long by one
palm in width, studded with iron nails.^ The beasts
sought to swallow and chew the souls that were on the
bridge, each beast being as great as a chariot, and a fiery
mist issuing from their jaws, till it seemed as though all the

' This lake corresponds to the sea haunted by strange
which swarm about the hero's curach in the early Inirama and in the
modern romantic folk-tales.

' Signor D'Aneona [ap. cil. ) suEgests that the apoli^ue of the bridge in
the Fiorelii oi ?ii. Francis (cxxvii.) is an itnperrect quotation from Tun-
dale, as also a similar passage of Joachim of Flora,

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 217

lake were ablaze. Tundale saw a man attempting to cross
with a burden on his back like a sheaf of corn. He was
told that all had to cross that bridge who had stolen any-
thing, great or small, bearing a burden proportionate to
the magnitude of the theft. Tundale had once stolen a
cow; he had, indeed, made restitution, but only because
he had been forced to do so, therefore he had to cross the
bridge, carrying a wild cow on his back. On reaching the
other side, he pointed out to the angel that his feet were all
bleeding from the spikes; this was because he had been
one of ' those whose feet are swift to shed blood.'

They went on their way through rough and gloomy
places, till they came to a house, great as a mountain, and
round like an oven, whence flames arose to the height of
a thousand feet, and souls were burning therein. On
approaching, they saw executioners standing in the flames,
armed with axes, sharp razors, scythes, sickles, augers,
hooks, 'and all instruments beside, which might serve for
wounding, flaying, beheading, or cutting.' Tundale begged
hard to be let off, but the angel told him that he must
endure it, and banded him over to the demons, who
' applied to him the instruments of torment we have before
mentioned until they made small fragments of him.' ' In
that house were much moaning and sighing, shrieking and
wailing, weeping and gnashing of teeth, sharp fire scorch-
ing the souls.' At length Tundale confessed that he bad
but suffered his deserts, after which he found himself stand-
ing alone in a dark place free from pain.

Upon being rejoined by the ange!, Tundale asked him —
as well he might — what was the meaning of the saying,
Misericordia Domini pkna est terra. ' That sentence,'
replied the angel, ' has puzzled many before you. Now thus

2i8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

is my King : though He is beoeficenl, yet is He wont to do
justice.' And he proceeded to expound the necessity for
constraining man to follow his duty. None were entirely
free from sin, but even the righteous were brought to see
those sufferings, in order that they might see what they had
escaped, and give thanks; so were sinners brought to see
tlie joys of Heaven, that they might grieve the more for
their loss.'^

Another hideous monster there was, with two feet and
two wings, and many necks, beaks, and talons. An un-
quenchable tire issued from his mouth ; he sat upon a
lake of ice, and swallowed the wretched souls, melting
them, and dipping them into the icy lake for a renewal of
their pains. ^ The beast became pregnant with these
souls, who kept biting and tearing him hke a brood of
mountain vipers, until the time for delivery came. This
gruesome conception is elaborated with a number of
.fantastic details. Thus were punished monks, canons,
nuns, etc., who had broken their vows, who had tongues
sharp as of vipers, and refrained not themselves from evil
speaking; also they who had defiled themselves with
inordinate lust. This punishment too had to be endured
by Tundale. After it their way led them by a dark and
devious glen, descending from mountain-tops into deep
abysses, their path lighted only by the radiance of
the angel. Tundale asked whither their road led. The

' See the remarks in the preceding section upon a similar concep-
tion in the fis Adamndin, and contrast the treatment of it by the two
authors.

^ The destmctioD of the guilty soul, and its reintegration for a
renewal of its suffering, dates back to Plutarch's Vision of ThespesioE.
See Seel. I anti.

{

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 219

angel replied, ' This is the road which leadeth unto death.*
Tundale expressed surprise, for he had heard that that
way was broad, and that maay went by it; but the
angel explained that the text referred to this life only.

After a weary journey, they came to a valley wherein
were several smithies, and a great weeping and wailing in
them. The smiths seized Tundale with their tongs, and
cast him into a furnace, glowing fiery red; many souls
were in it already, and the bellows were plied beneath
' as though they were iron on the hearth, until they were
reduced to nought, until they were turneil into water."
They were again uplifted with the tongs, and forged
into one single mass, their pain exceeding all other pain,
and they calling for death, which they could not obtain.
After which they were passed on to the other smithies in

The angel explained that all the souls whom Tundale
had yet seen were destined finally to receive metcy; it still
remained for them to see those that were in the nethermost
HelL Suddenly Tundale was seized with a great trembling,
as he became aware of an intolerable cold and stench,
dense darkness, tribulation and anguish, while he saw the
foundations of the earth sinking. Turning to question his
guide he found himself alone. He heard the wailing and
howling of wretched souls, and terrible thunderings, but
could perceive no face, nor distinguish any voice. At
length he discerned a vast four-cornered cavern, in the
midst of which a huge pillar towered up ; fire and vapour
rose up against the pillar, and in the midst of the flame
many thousands of demons and souls flew up like sparks,
and fell back. Tundale strove to turn away, but could not,
for his feel clave to the floor ; whereat, filled with frenzy, he

2!o AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

began to tear himself with his nails. Demons surrounded
him, threatening and reviling, but the angel rescued him
and brought him to the gate of Hell. Here, he told him,
was no light small nor great, but he could see the inhabi-
tants without their seeing him. Tundale looked, and saw
the Prince of Darkness, black as a raven from head to foot,
with more than a thousand hands on him, each two hundred
cubits long, and every finger one hundred palms in length,
with iron nails like warriors' spears, and toes to match ; he
had a long thick tail, covered with iron spikes. He lay on
an iron hurdle over fiery gledes, a bellows on each side of
him, and crowds of demons blowing it. Every limb was
covered with chains of iron and bronze. As he lay there
roasting, tossing from side to side, filled with rage and fury,
he grasped the souls in his rough, thick hands, bruising
and crushing them, as a man would crush grapes to squeeze
out the wine. With his fiery, stinking breath he scattered
the souls about Hell, and as he drew in his breath again
he swallowed them down with it, and those whom his hands
could not reach he lashed with his tail. This, the angel
explained, was Lucifer, whom God had created first of all
creatures, and of the rest some were angels of darkness,
and some of the race of Adam ; ever since their damnation
they sought to lead others to deny Christ, and the greater
the power of each, the greater was his punishment.

Here Tundaie saw numbers of his friends and kin, whom
he had ever rejoiced to see in this world, but now beheld
with pain.

On leaving Hell, they entered into a great light, and
came to a wall whereon were multitudes of men and
women. Rain and wind were beating on them, but
abundant light fell on them, and no foulness was there.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 221

These had led a ' variegated ' life, in which good and evil
were equally commingled, therefore they were exposed to
wind and rain, hunger and thirst, until the end, when they
should enter into everlasting life.

They next came to a forest, and passing through an open
door therein found themselves in a. goodly plain, covered
with flowers and fragrant herhs, and the Well of Life in the
midst of it ; here dwelt the good who were not yet per-
mitted to join the heavenly host. Tundale recognised
many whom he had known, including two Irish kings,
Donnchad and Concobar, between whom a feud had sub-
sisted, but they had repented and become reconciled. He
also saw a house of stone, without door or window, yet all
might enter in who would, and it seemed as though the sun
were in every part of it. It had no foundations, hut was
all set about with precious stones. In it was a golden
throncj set with jewels, and covered with fine silk, whereon
a king sat, calm and mild, while great numbers approached
him, in gladness and rejoicing, bearing jewels and great
treasures. Tundale drew near to see, for in the king he
recognised Cormac, whose subject he had been. Great
numbers of priests and deacons were about him in rich
vestments, as though for the mass. The house was hung
with choice drapery, and tables were set out, covered with
vessels of gold and silver and ivory, as though for a royal
banquet, so that they who saw that house would think that
even though there had been no glory nor wealth beside,
this would suffice for delight. All present fell on their
knees and repeated, Laborei manuum luarum manducabis ;
beatus «, et bene tibi eril. Tundale wondered to see that
none of those who were serving Cormac were the king's
own people, but the angel said that he was served by the

2X1 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

poor and pilgrims of the Lord whom he had relieved, so
that God had delivered unto him the everlasting kingdom
by their hands. ^

Even as they watched, the house was suddenly darkened,
and all within it were thrown to the ground, and, lifting up
their hands, said, Domitte, Deus omntpoUns, sicut vis, et
sicut sets, miserere seroi lui ! Then Cormac left the house,
and Tundale, following, saw him enter into a fire up to the
waist, and a hair-shirt on him from the waist upward.
Thus he spent three hours of every day ; the fire being the
expiation of a breach of his marriage vow, and the hair-
shirt, of the murder of a noble that was under the protection
of Patrick, and of a false vow, all other sins being freely
remitted.

Proceeding on his way, Tundale saw women, and men,
and elders, in silken robes, and the countenance of each
one was like the sun at midday. Their hair was like gold,
they wore golden crowns covered with precious stones, and
they sang Alleluia, giving praise, so that 'if one heard
them but once, he would have no memory of the grief and
care he had known before.' These were the saints 'who
had macerated their bodies for God's sake, and washed
their robes in the blood of the spotless Lamb, and turned
their backs to the world, and crucified their will in the
service of God while in the body.'

He also beheld many castles, and pavilions of purple
and byssus, gold and silver, silk and other precious cover-
ings, and in them organs and timpans and harps, and
every kind of music, were playing. Therein were people of
devotion, who had submitted their own will to God, and
' Cp. the inaiogous ideas in ihe Shepherd of Hennas, and the vision
■ St. Gregory's Epistle.

k.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 223

had taken upon thera humility and lowliness, without pride
or vainglory, and were submissiTe to their superiors, and
found savour in spirituality, and had bridled their tongues,
not only from evil-speaking, but even from good words,

A little further on they saw a wall, high and thick, ail of
silver, and no door in it. Choirs of saints were there, clad
in white raiment, full of gladness and rejoicing, perpetually
praising the Trinity. The radiance of their apparel was
like the snow of a single night beneath the sun's bright-
ness. These had been faithful in wedlock, had maintained
their people after the will of God, and had distributed their
goods among the poor and the Church ; to them will Christ
say, Venitc benedicti Pairis met, possideie regnum quod vobis
partum est ab origine mundi. Another wall was of gold,
and within it golden seats innumerable, all set with precious
stones — pearls and sapphires, sardius and topaz, etc.
Then they saw that, the like of which eye had not seen,
nor ear heard, neither had the heart of man conceived :
namely, the glory which God had prepared for them that
loved Him. The nine orders of angels, and the saints
mingled with them, hearkened to words exceeding sweet
which none might record. In the presence of that vision,
Tundale could not only see the glory that was before him,
but also all the pain that he had left behind, for ' to
whomsoever God giveth power to behold Himself, to him
is power to see all other creatures likewise.' 'From that
time forth Tundale asked nothing of the Angel, for to him-
self was given from God knowledge of what he desired to
know.'

He saw St. Patrick and several bishops, four of whom
he had known : viz. Celestine, Malachi (the celebrated
primate of Ireland, and friend of St. Bernard), Nemias

i

334 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DA

(Gilla na Naemh Ua Muircheitach, bishop of Cloyn
Ross), and Christian. He also saw a great tree Ude
blossom, and with fruit of every kind. Vast flocks ol
of many hues were on the tree-tops, singing every k
music, and no scent of fragrant herb is known that w;
about that tree. All rouud the tree multitudes ol
and women sat in chairs of gold and silver and ivoiy
golden crowns on their heads, and golden wands in
hands, singing, and praising the King. This tree wi
prop and stay of the Church, and the people about il
they who had united to support and defend the Ci
turning their backs upon worldly things, and lead
devout life.

The vision over, Tundale begged to be allowed tc
but the Angel told him that he must return to the
He further bade him remember what he had seen, tl
might deliver it to the people of the world. He en{
Tundale to eschew evil in future, and promised to pi
and counsel him.

For several reasons, it seemed advisable to relate
dale's vision with some fulness of detail. In the
place, it can hardly be that a work which so soon acqi
and long maintained, an immense popularity throu]
all Western Christendom, failed to exercise great infli
in the way of fixing, if not of determining, the
generally held concerning the Otherworld. Further, 2
work of an Irish author, written in the centre of Eu
and almost immediately adopted throughout the \
embodying, moreover, while continuing and enlarginj
ideas currently held by members of the Christian CI
respecting the future life, and, at the same time, conta
many elements of distinctly Irish, and even pagan, o

^

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 225

it reveals beyond dispute the existence, the manner, and,
partly, the extent of the contribution which the legend
made to the development of modern literature, after quitting
the soil upon which it had matured.

The Vision of Tundale has many points in commoQ
with the Fis Aiamndin, e.g. the preference accorded to the
martyrs and ascetics, the special provision made for the
charitable sinners, the nine orders of Heaven, the episodes
of the bridges and the Tree of Life, etc. Like Adamndn,
Tundale expressed a desire to remain in Paradise, but was
bidden return, and relate what he had seen. From a
literary point of view, the work is decidedly inferior to the
Fis ; it is retrograde, too, in the absence of a definite scheme
of the Otherworld ; historically, however, it marks a
forward step in the development of the purgatorial idea, of
which, perhaps, it affords the most complete example
which religious fiction contains, prior to its final perfec-
tion by Dante. It also prepares the way for the group of
legends associated with St. Patrick's Purgatory, for it
introduces the idea of the Seer himself suffering the
pui^atorial pains, with a view to his own redemption;
Tundale's vision, however, contains no suggestion of a
local purgatory in this world. In both these respects, he
is followed by Dante, to some extent, though the com-
paratively slight annoyances endured by the latter during
his ascent of the purgatorial mount — ^with the exception of
the fiery wall, for which there was a special reason — were
rather, so to speak, incidents of travel, necessitated by the
nature of the country through which he had to pass, than
sufferings inflicted on him for his purgation. In one
respect, Marcus merits to be raised to a bad eminence
among his kind : we have marked already, in the develop-

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/k^^wl. TuivJal':, (or instance, freqacctly applied to his
*rj}^^Ji<; ^ij»/J/: for th'i inUrrpreutioa of passages of Scriptnie
wf/kh pffrvrnt/jd themselT€S to his recollection, eren as
bant/; had frequent recourse to Virgil, and afierwaids to

' IH« MJ/l that tht Hells of the Oriental religions eren surpoiss
i)ut%^. *4 mK'ViS0:y%\ CbrUtendom in the morbid crcelty and obscenity,
Ml/1 iu tli« childish extraragance of their descriptions.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 227

Beatrice and Matilda, for the like purpose. So, too, the
sentences of Scripture which Tundale heard repeated in
the region of probation may be compared to the similar
sentences which Dante heard floating along the ait in
Purgatory. Tundale, moreover, met and conversed in the
world of shades not only with persons of his own acquaint-
ance and kin, as Thespesios and others had done before
him, but with a variety of historical personages of past and
present times, including semi-mythical Irish heroes like
Fergus Mac R6ig and Conall Cernach, and sacred person-
ages Uke St. Paul and St. Patrick. Like Dante, too, he
introduced incidents of contemporary history in which he
felt an interest, such as the strife between the princes
Donnchad and Concobar, and passed his own judgment
upon the actors. The reward bestowed upon King
Cormac, in the shape of a little kingdom of his own, is a
curious instance of the same kind ; it was probably due
to an excessively literal interpretation of the Scripture
promises. It recalls the aristocratic type of the more
primitive Elysium. The vision exhibits the usual agree-
ment with Dante in the provision of a special treatment
for the 'variegated,' or half-and-half sinners, and the usual
contrast to him in the nature of that treatment. Marcus
follows precedents which had become inconsistent with the
design of his work, which expresses the more complete
theory of Purgatory as a separate state. Dante, apparently,
was guided in his mode of dealing with this class of persons
by his own sense of moral and artistic fitness. Marcus, in
giving the name of Acheron to the flaming mouth of the
beast, betrays a slight tendency towards that importation of
classical ideas into Christian escbalology which Dante
afterwards developed to such an extent.

228 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Coming to similarities existing between single incidents,
there is, of course, a general resemblance between the
penalties, etc., enumerated by both authors, as in the lakes
of fire and ordure, the flames and ice, the piercing winds, the
scourging by demons, etc etc. ; there is also a more special
likeness in the nature of the conception, if not in the details,
between the grotesque transformations undergone by the
souls swallowed by Tundale's monster, and the terrible meta-
morphoses brought about by the serpents in cantos xziiL
and xxiv. of the Inferno, Again, the demon on the ice,
in Tundale's Vision, devouring the souls, resembles Dante's
Lucifer chewing the arch-traitors in the icy centre of Hell.
Tundale's demon, indeed, is not Lucifer, who is described
later on as being roasted on a gridiron. We may note in
this place that the Irishman and the Italian have exchanged
the ideas commonly accepted by their respective country-
men on the subject : Dante making the sufferings of the
inmost core of Hell to consist in cold, Marcus in heat.
There are various touches besides in which the one author
reminds us of the other. Tundale's rescue by the angel
from the demons,^ and the strife between these in the fury
of their disappointment, present a curiously close parallel
to the similar incidents in Inferno xxii. Tundale and
his guide, after their rude journey, looking down into the
gulf of fire and ordure, recall Dante and Virgil pausing in

^ The angel who came to Tundale's rescue may also be compared to
the angel who came to the aid of Dante and Virgil when their
entrance into the City of Dis was opposed by the demons {Inf, ix.).
Signer D'Ancona {op» cit,, p. 55 n,) compares the approach of Tundale's
angel, ' with a radiance as of a star/ to the approach of the angel in
Purgatorio xii. 89 x^., nellafacda^ quale Par tremolando mattutina
Stella, citing the passage from the Latin Tundale, where the resemblance
is still closer — longe venUntem velut stellam lucidam.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

229

like manner upon the steep and rugged causeways of the
Inferno, to gaze into the abysses of the lower circles. As
Tundaie was abandoned by his guide before entering into
Hell, so was Dante left to himself by Virgil upon reaching
the Terrestrial Paradise.' To Tundaie, when in Heaven,
it was shown that he could look back, and view the regions
through which he had passed; so Dante, in Paradise, was
bidden to look downward toward this world and its ways.^
Other resemblances exist, but these are the most striking.

Of course it is not to be supposed that the continuation
and development of the Vision legend at this period of the
Middle Ages was confined to the Irish school. It was
still, and had been since the earliest days of the Church,
a favourite topic with monastic homilists and biographers
of the saints.* However, it has not been my object to
compile a history, or a summary, of this branch of literature,
but to select those examples of it which have either carried
the subject to a further stage of development, or, by reason
of their popularity, or of their accessibihty to later writers,
may have served as links in the chain of transmission.

' Furg. ixvii. 13QJ??,

' Par. xxii. 129 sqq. Dante evidently follows the correspondinE
passaige in the Somniupt Scipionis, or the deitvatiie passage in Book ix.
of Lucan's Pkarstdia. The mannei in wllich the idea iippea.rs in
Tundaie is not analogous. The doctrine — ' to whomsoever God
giveth power to beheld Hiroself, Id him is power to see all other
creatures likewise' — is precisely that of Dsnte. See Paradisoa. dl
sq., and cp. viii. 90; ii. 73 sq. ; li. ig tq., etc.

' For many specimens of these visions, both of earlier and later
dates, see Ozanam, Dante et la Philesaf/iie calhatiqtu au Ireitiime
SikU ; Wright, Si. Palrick's Pttr^atory, 1844 ; Ancona, 0/. cit. The
learned author of the last-named work has recorded several curious
and little-known examples, and, in his notes, gives references to many
works upon special branches of the subject.

I

. i' .i > ■

230 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DA!

Few, indeed, out of the whole mass possess any ir
either from originality of invention, or variety of treat
still less from any literary merit, and it is more
probable that the vast majority of them never ]
beyond the limits of the community to which their j
belonged, until they were brought to light by the rese
of modem antiquaries.

Nevertheless, of the Continental visions which bel
this epoch, there is one which demands further not
well by reason of the exceptionally elaborate man
which it treats the subject, as of the recognition ac<
to it by later writers. This is the Vision of Paul,
Descent of Paul into Hell, a Latin work known
South of France before the middle of the eleventh c(
and translated into Anglo-Norman by Adam de Ro
soon afterwards into several modern languages. W<
seen that the early Church produced a work known
Apocalypse of St. Paul, but this, apparently, was not
to the later Middle Ages, at any rate at first hand, 1
the terms in which St. Paul's Vision is mentioned
opening of the Fis Adamndin suggest that at lej
tradition survived, and several passages in mediaeval
bear a strong resemblance to the earlier work,
probably to the eleventh-century vision that Dante
in Inferno ii. 28 sqq, ; ^ evidently he does not re
the Apostle's own words exclusively, for St. Paul
Epistles makes no mention of a visit to Hell, thou
also possible that Dante had no other authority f
than the floating tradition.

In this Vision St. Paul was conducted by Micl

* * Andowi poi lo Vas d'elezione, Per recarne conforto a que
etc. (/«/". ii. 28-9).

LATER DEVELOPMENTS 231

Hell, on the threshold whereof stood a fiery tree, from the
branches of which were suspended by the tongue, leg, neck,
or other peccant member, those who had been guilty ol
rapacity, or had given false iudgment por conjidndre lagente.
Near this was a fiery furnace, whereof li feus est plus n
que mors, and in it were plunged they who had loved
God. They then came to a great and turbid river in which
devils, in form of lions, swam about like fishes. The river
was spanned by a bridge, the width of a single hair,^ which
had to be crossed in order to reach God's presence. The
wicked fell off into the mouth of Beelzebub, which stood
wide open, vomiting flame, ready to receive them. Upon
issuing thence, all black and charred, they were plunged
into the river, where they stood immersed to different
depths — to the knees, navel, eyes, eyebrows, crown, etc. —
in proportion to the degree of their guilt. ^ These were
hypocrites, adulterers, envious persons who had exulted in
the sight of others' sorrow— _;*(ir tea sunt ore dolereux, etc.
Those who had made war upon the Church were submerged
entirely. Faithless virgins who had violated their vow
chastity, and had destroyed their children, were clad in
black garments smeared with pilch and sulphur, and aflame
while they endured the embraces of serpents and dragons.

^ For this extreme Icnuily, cp. Al SirSl, the Muslim equivalent (
the Chinv^t Bridge, narraw as a razor's edge ; also ttie souls' bridge
of the Inoits of Aleutia, which, as in several medij:val visions, is 1
the tluckness of a single thread,

» Cp. lh= fate of the violent in caoto xii. of the Infirne. Tl
traitors also stand more or less completely congealed in the ici
according to the circumstances of their tteachery {Irtf. xxxii.-iiiiT.).

' It is possible that thb circumstance was su^esled by simih
travel tales told of the serpents of India, and preserved by the Greek
naturalists. However, the idea is one which might well occur spon-

«

AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

Corrupt judges, who had abused the widow and orphan,
burnt like brushwood amid walls of ice. Priests who had
knowD the law of God, but failed to keep it, wore heavy
collars about their necks.

St. Paul, like Tundale, exclaimed, and asked why man
should be born for such misery ; but Michael replied that
beneath those depths a still greater depth remained. This
was a well, covered, and sealed with seven seals, whence
proceeded such a stench that St. Paul started back. Here
were imprisoned such as had denied the articles of the
Christian faith.^ These called upon St. Paul, St. Michael,
and t/ie ' twelve peers,' to pray for them, and thai so loudly
that their cry reached to Heaven ; but God Himself
replied that no pardon was possible for those that had
rebelled against Him ; howbeit, He was prevailed upon
by the prayers of the Saints to grant them the usual Sunday
respite, which was made to last from none on Saturday to
prime on Monday.

The authorship of this Vision is unknown, so that there
is no saying whether or not it was composed under the
influence of the Irish Visions. The dale and other circum-
stances would admit of this, and it has much in common
with them; notably, the manner in which the familiar
bridge episode is treated is very similar to that of the
Fis Adamndin ; nevertheless, the greater part of it might
quite as well have been derived from other sources, and it
bears at least as strong a resemblance to the Apocalypses
of St. Peter and St. Paul; like them, but to a greater

taneously,
taiiaiiis.

' Cp. the fiery sepalchi
infidels were immured.

of the asual OChecworld applications of the Itx
Inf. canto li., wherein, likewise.

LATER DEVELOPMENTS z33J

extent, it aims at the recompense of specific crimes by I
the appropriate punishments. However, there is a coo- f
siderable group of Visions, the authors of which, though 1
foreigners, have confessedly drawn from Irish sources. 1
This series dates back at least as far as the time of Bede, f
to whom, Ukewise, we are indebted for the earliest account
of the visions of St. Fursa, and for several particulars of
the life of Adamnan. For Bede has recorded a vision
seen by Drihthelm, a Northumbrian monk, who related it
to one Haemgils, then a hermit in Ireland, from whom
Bede received it.' The sou! of Drihthelm, on parting from
the body, was taken in charge by an angel, who brought
him to a great valley in the north-east, which was Purga-
tory. One side of the valley was covered with flames, the
other with ice, with the usual accompaniments of hail and
snowstorms, filth, evii spirits, etc. They afterwards came
to a great pit and a fiery plain, where they saw globes of
fire rising and sinking, and in them the souls of men were
imprisoned.^ Here Drihthelm was assailed by demons
armed with fiery forks, but the angel rescued him. They
finally reached a wall in the south-east,' wherein was no
opening. They were conveyed to the top of it, whence
they could see a wide, flowery plain, and the light on it was
brighter than the sun at noon. People in shining raiment
were walking there ; these were the bom sed non valde, who
were to dwell there until Judgment Beyond this could be

^ NorthumbrJa, it will be remembered, was Christianised by Irish
monks, who planted monasteries al Lindisfarne and elsewhere, which
long maintained the connection between the two countries.

^ Cp. Plutarch, Vision of Thespesios, ante. Sec. I, where the souls
Bsceoded contained in bubbles.

' In ihe Fii AdamndiH Paradise is placed in the south-east.

%

234 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

descried a yet brighter region, whence fragrant odours and
the singing of the saintly choirs were borne to them. This
narrative, commonplace as it is, proves the early date of
several features of some of the principal visions, which
were composed at a much later period.

By far the most famous of the present group of visions
are those associated with St. Patrick's Purgatory, which
attained to a popularity which almost surpassed that of
the Vision of Tundale or the Voyage of St. Brendan.

It would seem that the earliest known version of this
legend is the vision seen in 1153 by the knight Owen, and
written soon after the middle of the twelfth century by
Henry of Saltrey, a monk in the Benedictine monastery of
Huntingdon, who received the story from Gilbert, Abbot
of Louth. Owen was an Irishman in the service of King
Stephen, from whom he received knighthood. Like
Tundale, he was a brave soldier, but in the course of an
ungoverned life had been guilty of rapine, lust, sacrilege,
and other crimes. In the course of time he repented, and
returned to Ireland, where he heard of an old tradition, to
the effect that once St. Patrick, when his preaching had
failed to move a pagan audience, wrought their conversion
by causing a chasm to open, through which the next world
became visible to them. Tradition gave out an island in
Loch Derg, in the County Donegal, as the scene of this
miracle, and there a religious house was established. Owen
presented himself to the Abbot, and prevailed on him to
allow him to enter the cavern, which he did after being
duly prepared by fasting and prayer. He was conducted
by a party of monks along a dark passage, and then through
a brightly lighted cloister. After this he was left to him-
self, when he was assailed by a party of demons, from

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

235

whom he escaped by pronouncing the name of the Lord.
Like Fursa, he was exposed to repeated attempts of the
kind, but always extricated himself without need of angehc
succour. He traversed various plains set apart for the
purgation of different offences. Among other torments,
mostly of the conventional kind, which seem to presuppose
an acquaintance with the visions already related, he beheld
sinners of various kinds suspended from trees by the
members that had offended. Others were plunged in
molten metal to a depth corresponding to the gravity of
their offences,! while demons tore them with hooks when-
ever they attempted to raise themselves therefrom.^ Others
were congealed in ice,^ buried in fiery trenches,* buffeted
by violent winds,* gnawed by serpents," etc. Although the
Purgatory of Owen resembles the Inferno of Dante in so
many respects, it differs from il, and, indeed, from most of
its predecessors, in not distinguishing between the various
crimes that are chastised there. One instance of an idea
common to the author and to Dante is very suggestive:
Owen passed several figures lying on the ground crucified,
like Dante's Caiaphas.'' Like Dante and Tundale, Owen
recognised several of his friends.

He came to the mouth of Hell, which here, again,
assumes the form of a demon's witle-opened mouth, into
which, each time he draws in his breath, swarms of souls
are drawn in with it, to be again puffed out as he respires —
an image already occurring in the Vision of Esdras before
referred to. There, too, was the usual bridge, spanning a

' Cp. Infeme xii. and xxxii. -xxxiv.

' Inf. xii.-imii. ; and cp. the Centaurs in Inf. xii. 1

I

236 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

foul flood, wherein condemned spirits wallowed. At the
far end oi it was a crystal wall, and in it a gate of gold and
jewels, which led to the Terrestrial Paradise, the halting-
place of the spirits that were cleansed of sin, and awaiting
their final perfection ; while, to render this anticipation of
Dante yet more striking, a multitude of these passed before
Owen, chanting psalms. Two archbishops met him, and
conducted him to the top of a mountain, whence he
obtained a Pisgah view of the gate of Paradise, * like gold
refining in a glowing furnace/ Then, with a flash of fire
from Heaven, the vision ended.

Nothing certain is known concerning the origin of this
legend, though it evidently existed long before Henry of
Saltrey's day. As we have seen, it was accoimted for by
a legend connecting it with the Apostle of Ireland ; it is
referred to by Joscelin, also a twelfth-century writer, in his
Zt/e of St Patrick^ but there is no mention of it in any
of the earlier writings concerning that Saint. Indeed, some
chroniclers refer it to one Patrick, a hermit of the neigh-
bourhood, and this origin is given in the popular story of
Fortunatus ; and it is unlikely that popular tradition would
have had recourse to some obscure and even hypothetical
Saint, if the connection with the Apostle had been generally
recognised. Probably, the island may have been the scene
of some local pagan cult, taken over, with the necessary
modifications, by the Christian community established
there, in something the same manner as St. Brigid's fire
at Kildare. From the resemblance which the practices
there observed bore to those connected with the Cave of
Trophonius and the Eleusinian Mysteries, it seems not
unlikely that if the origin of the rites could be traced, some
analogies might be established between the ancient worship

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

237

of Ireland, and some of the more obscure Greek cults.
However this may be, the legend of St. Patrick's Purgatory
soon achieved an almost unexampled popularity, and was
speedily adopted into the popular fictions of most European
countries. Marie de France, in the early part of the thir-
teenth century, made it the subject of a long poem, and
was closely followed by several Anglo-Norman writers,
while it is recorded in the learned collections of Jean de
Vitry, Vincent de Beauvais, and Caesar of Heisterbach,
and by several of the leading chroniclers, such as Giraldus
Cambrensis, Matthew Paris, and Froissart. Meanwhile, the
island in Loch Derg became one of the recognised holy
places to which pilgrims even from remote parts of Europe,
such as Italy, Hungary, etc., resorted for the purpose of
procuring the remission of past sins, by undergoing the pur-
gatorial discipline in this life, and the English archives still
contain records of certificates given by Edward ni. and
Richard 11. to several illustrious foreigners, testifying to
their due accomplishment of the pilgrimage and its attendant
rites.' I do not know to what authority it was intended
that these certificates should commend the recipients.

The institution never received the formal sanction, nor
even the approbation, of the Church, and in the year 1497
the purgatorial cavern was closed by order of Pope Alex-
ander VI, For some time to come, however, the tradition
lived on in various forms : in hagiology, as in the Aurea
Legenia of Jacobus de Voragine; in such specimens of
popular literature as the story of Fortunatus ; in Tassoni's
burlesque poem. La Secchia Rapita, and in the tragedy of
Calderon, to which it furnished both title and subject. The
two points in connection with it that concern us, are the
' See a paper by M, Henri Gaidoz ia Raiui CtUiijUc, u. 483.

238 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

facts that the legend continued the Irish school of the Ms^
and that it achieved a popularity so widespread and so
enduring as to render it almost certain that it must, at
least, have come to Dante's knowledge.

A few years before the Vision of Owen, a somewhat
similar work had been produced in Italy — the Vision of
Alberic, the son of a Campanian noble, and a monk of the
famous Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino. For the
most part, this vision is constructed on the conventional
lines, but in several of its details it is in such close agree-
ment with Dante's Inferno as to call for some remark.^
The commencement, indeed, appears to be original. At
the age of ten, Alberic fell into a trance, which lasted for
nine days. While in this state he was visited by a dove,
which put its bill within his mouth, and carried him to
St. Peter, who, in company with two angels, conveyed him
to the nether world. On his way thither he passed through
the Limbus infantium^ which also is an unusual feature in
works of this class. Among the penalties of Hell which
bear a more or less close resemblance to Dante's Inferno^
are a valley where the unchaste stood in fire and ice to a
greater or less depth according to the gravity of their
offence ; tyrants and infanticides were enclosed in masses
of fire; homicides were plunged in a lake of fire, like
blood ; breakers of ecclesiastical vows were gnawed by
serpents. One purgatorial infliction resembles the punish-

' Signor d'Ancona {op, cit,^ pp. 62-3) doubts whether this work was
ever known beyond its birthplace in the Abbey of Monte Cassino, until
its discovery less than a century ago, where Dante was not likely to
have seen it. In the absence of direct evidence on this point, I leave
the passage in the text as it stands, for the reader to form his own
conclusions,

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

239 \

ment of suicides in Infertw xiii. : the souls in question I
were hunted by a demon, mounted on a dragon, through I
plains full of thorns and briars, where they left scraps of I
their clothes and flesh upon the thorns, until, being I
lightened of their superfluous flesh, they escaped, and were I
thus purged. Several familiar features reappear, and are, j
in some measure, reduplicated ; thus, besides the bridge, |
there is a red-hot ladder, which the wicked have to ascend 1
until they drop off; Hell's mouth again appears as the I
mouth of a serpent, drawing in and ejecting the souls with [
his breath, to which are added a dog and a lion, who, by J
theit breath, blow the souls to their allotted stations.
Alberic, like several of his predecessors, and also like
Dante, is assailed by demons armed with hooks. He
crossed the bridge to the Terrestrial Paradise, where the
purified spirits dwell until the Beatific Vision shall be
revealed to them after Judgment. This place is a flowery
plain, from out of which rises the Mountain of Paradise,
surrounded by a wall, over which Alberic was permitted to
look, though he might neither enter, nor repeat what he
saw there. Alberic, too, received St. Peter's instructions
in cosmology — of a very crude description — and as to the
virtues of a monastic life, etc. ; he was then bidden to 1
return and relate his vision. ]

As the influence of the Irish school upon European
letters waned, and gradually spent itself, a deterioration in
the Vision literature became apparent ; it lost what little
method and symmetry that school had introduced into it,
and reverted to the primitive amorphous type ; we can no _
longer trace any indication of original thought or invention ;
little, even, of vividness or picturesque description is left, '
Not that this deterioration of quality is attended by any I

140 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

diminutioii of quantity: on the contrary, sereral causes
combined to render the output greater than erer. The
rapid revival of ecclesiastical literature led, as one of its
results, to increased activity in this long-worked lield, and
improved communications enabled the inmates of each
monastery to study and imitate the works of their fellows
in other countries and provinces. Moreover, the anticipa-
tion of a speedy end of this world, which prevailed towards
the close of the tenth century, directed the trend of reli-
gious thought towards the world to come, and even after
the cause had ceased to be operative, the effect remained.
Then came the reform of several monastic orders, and the
establishment of the friars, resulting in a renewed activity
in preaching and leaching, which would naturally quicken
the demand for subjects so well adapted to moving exhorta-
tion and edification ; while the rise of pictorial art, which
found attractive subjects in visions of Judgment, and repre-
sentations of the Divine Glory, at once fostered, and was
fostered by, the prevalence of those same subjects in
popular literature. At the same time, the rise of a litera-
ture in the vernacular tongues would naturally co-operate
with the development of a genuine theology to diminish
the importance of the Visions of the Otherworld as works
of imagination or vehicles of instruction, and to relegate
them to the domain of the homilist and fabliast.

Accordingly, the literature of the Middle Ages teems
with stories dealing with the Otherworld, and the lot of
departed souls therein. Some of them occur in the lives
of Saints and Martyrs ; others describe a visit to Heaven
or Hell, made either in vision, or in propria persona, or
else record some traveller's temporary return from the
bourne, charged with a message for the living. Many

LATER DEVELOPMENTS

Z4I

were composed with some particular end in view, in order
to convey a warning to some notorious sinner, or to instruct
by the edifying fate of some one remarkable for virtue or
vice; often, again, with the practical object of exacting
restitution or reparation frorei the sinner or his heirs.

The subject was equally popular in sacred and profane
literature, appearing in homily and apologue, folk-tale and
fabliau, in poems serious and comic, tending to eiHfication
and otherwise.

In al! this there was little enough of originality, or
intrinsic merit of any kind, save only when some aspect of
the subject happened to fall into the hands of a skilled
raconteur. Nevertheless, it all served to keep the subject
present to the public mind, and thus to afford that degree
of preparation, which always appears necessary alike for the
production and reception of any great and novel work of
art, and likewise to amass a considerable store of material,
ready for any hand capable of dealing with it. At length,
in Dante, the one poet arose whose genius was sufficient to
extricate from this heap of trivialities the great dogmas of
the Christian faith which lay at the bottom, and, by his
matchless constructive power, to give form and substance
to the theme, to illustrate it with all that his age could
afford of philosophy and learning, to animate it with the
spirit of devotion and sublime human passion, and to
enrich it with all the resources of the poetical imagination.'

' Perhaps a reference should be made to the Vision of the Other-
world composed by Danle's friend, the learned Jew Immanuel ben
Salamone, as the question might occur whether Dante may not, by
his means, have arrived at such part of his subject as relates to Old
Testament lore and Jewish tradition hj a shorter cut than the usual
channels, which it has been here attempteij to trace. Immanuel Has
born at Rome in 1265, the year of Daote's birth, and, like his friend,

341 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

7- Conclusion
In the foregoing pages it has been attempted to trace,
from its various sources, the progress of the legend which
culminated in Dante's Commedia. It did not form a part
of this design to collect the corresponding traditions which
abound in the folklore of many times and peoples, nor
even to give an exhaiistive account of the forms which the
legend assumed in the several fields which have come
within our purview; rather to confine our examination to
those examples which may be regarded as its sources, or
may have contributed to its transmission, or determined
the form which it assumed in later stages of its develop-
ment. We have seen that Dante's poem had been led up
to by a long series of predecessors, like it in theme, if in
nothing else, and that it had already approved its fitness
for a place in the world's literature, by the success which it
had achieved, in countless forms, among peoples of widely
diverse stages of culture. We have also seen how the Irish
Church, in its palmy days, developed a highly characteristic
treatment of the theme, and while following, in the main,
the accepted tiaditions of the mediaeval Church, introduced
certain modifications of a strongly individual and national

was at once poet, scholar, theologian, philosopher, and Exile, and,
probubly, one of the most learned men of liis day. Il Xs possible that
Dante may have been indebted to him for stray pieces of information,
scraps of Hebrew, and the iike, but the debt can hardly go further than
this. Immanud's vision of Hell and Paradite was not completed till
1325, and is a manifest imitation of the Commedia ; it has been con-
jectured, even, tbat by Daniel, who served as hii );uide, as Virgil did
to Dante, he signified the latter. See Signor Seppelli's translatioi),
with notes and introduction — Inftma i Faradiai di EmaHUtlt di
Salammtc, Ancona, 1S74.

\

CONCLUSION

243

type. Of this class the Vision of Adamndn has been
selected for a specimen, as representing the highest level
attained by the school to which it belonged, and as being
the most important contribution made to the growth of the
legend within the Christian Church prior to the advent of
Dante.

I have purposely abstained from offering a conjecture as
to any possible indebtedness on the part of Dante to the
Visions of the Irish school, and to the Fis Adamndin in
particular, further than as these, by reviving, transmitting,
and popularising the theme, placed ready to his hand the
subject which was, of all others, best adapted to his genius,
and, at the same time, best calculated to appeal to the
public of his day. The various topics into which this
examination has compelled the writer to enter— Dante
literature, Celtic tradition, folklore, mythology — are all
favourite subjects with that type of theorist who is wont to
accompany a small modicum of the bread of fact with an
intolerable deal of the sack of hypothesis, to the no small
detriment of critical sobriety, so that one who approaches
the subject with no preconceived theory of his own to
prove — unless, like those present at a revival meeting, he
be set a-prophesying by contagion — is apt to become
almost as sick of these shadows as was the Lady of Shalott
of those in her magic glass. I have therefore endeavoured
to present the author of the Fis Adamndin merely as a
'precursor' of Dante, without attempting to prove him
Dante's 'progenitor,' All the same, I do not think I am
transgressing these limits by suggesting the almost certainty
that so omnivorous a reader as Dante must have been
acquainted with works so generally known at and prior to
his day as the Voyages of St. Brendan, the Vision of Tun-

244 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

dale, and the legends of St. Patrick's Purgatory, all of which
were more or less influenced by the Ms Adafmndin^ and
were productions of the same school There is no ground
to imagine that Dante was acquainted with the I*is Adam-
ndin, nor can that supposition be entertained unless it can
be shown that there existed in his day a translation of it
into Latin, or one of the Romance languages, to which he
might have had access. Indeed, pending the results of
future research, it is impossible to put forward any work,
or group of works, as the model which Dante followed.
Probably no such model will ever be discovered, for the
simple reason that none such ever existed. It is true that
Dante availed himself freely of all that the previous Vision
literature could give him, just as he drew copiously from
every source at his command. But for the Latin classics,
and Virgil in particular ; but for the Latin Fathers, Augus-
tine, Jerome, and Gregory ; the Schoolmen, from Erigena
to Thomas Aquinas; the Romance poets of France and
Italy, it is certain that Dante's work, as we have it, could
never have come into being. So much may be claimed
for the Visions of the Irish school, and, apparently, no
more, but even this much is enough to entitle them to a
place in the history of modem literature. Indeed, in-
dependently of any such relation of cause and effect
between the two, the writings of the Irish school would
still constitute an interesting study, both as the fruits
obtained by previous labours in the same field under
widely different conditions, and even more for the light
which they cast upon what is still one of the darkest places
in the intellectual life of Europe.

We have had occasion to remark before upon several
particulars wherein the analogy between the Fis Adamndin

CONCLUSION

245

—and, to a less extent, others of the Irish Visions — and
the Commedia would appear to go deeper than can be
explained by their common subject, and their use in
common of the same general stock of ideas. However, it
does not appear that the influence exercised by the Irish
school mainly consisted in the introduction of novel ideas
and incidents, though even these were not entirely absent.
Indeed, throughout the history of the Vision legend, we
may observe a continual tendency to drop any national
or personal characteristics which it may have acquired
at a previous stage of its evolution. For instance, we
have seen to how great an extent the popular Christian
eschatology was modelled upon the classical Elysium and
Tartarus, yet even the earlier Church worts upon the
subject contain no such references to classical personages
and traditions as were employed so copiously by Dante,
and, in a slight aod tentative manner, by certain of his
predecessors. The same may be said of the Oriental
myths which formed part of the Hebrew contributions to
the subject. So, in proportion as the late medieval visions
of the Otherworld recede in date from those of the Irish
school, they tend to drop more and more of the structure
and imagery which were peculiarly characteristic of the
latter, as owing great part of their form or colour to the
Irish national traditions. This process is carried still
further by Dante, who rejected many of the most familiar
incidents of the earlier visions : e.g. the bridge, the open
mouth of the dragon as symbolising Hell, Enoch and
Elijah beside the Tree of Life, and the bird-flocks about
them, the special provisions for various kinds of the half-
righteous, etc.

Thus, while exercising a secondary influence by further

i

346 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

enriching the stock of material already in existence, the
main function of the Irish Visions was to set a litenuy
fashion, so to speak, whereby the Vision of the Otherworld
came to be regarded as the most natural vehicle for oon-
▼ejring men's thoughts and imaginations, as in other ages
the epic, the drama, the dialogue, the pamphlet, the novel,
and other forms of composition, have been specially affected
for the like purpose.

It remains to say a few words respecting the literary !

merits of the Fis Adamndin, Obviously there can be no \

rivalry, or even comparison, in this respect, between it and
the poem which stands high among the supreme achieve-
ments of the human intellect Noteworthy, rather, is
the degree of excellence to which the earlier writer attains,
when we consider what was the state of vernacular
literature in the Europe of his day. His style, like the
style of most Irish writers of the best period, is simple,
picturesque, and forcible ; the language is terse and
pr^nant, without being bald or meagre. There are certain
writings of every age, differing much in merit, from which,
as we read them, we seem to be hearing the author's voice
proceeding; where this is so, the style can hardly be
other than good of its kind, however simple, and even rude,
it may be, and however little it may owe to technical
skill. This characteristic, I think, the work in question
possesses ; but this is an evanescent quality which must
needs disappear in translation, especially such a transla-
tion as the present, where the aim has chiefly been at
literal accuracy.

Mention has been made already of the advantages
which this Vision possesses over most others of its class,
by reason of its superiority in construction, which is mani-

CONCLUSION

247

fested alike in the general design of the work, and in the
superior grouping and visual presentment of certain
portions, such as the description of Heaven, and the
righteous assembled about the Throne. Our author, too,
compares favourably with his fellows as regards his general
cast of thought, as particularly in the stress which he lays
upon the spiritual or emotional side of the sufferings of the
lost, and the grave pity with which the contemplation of
their fate repeatedly inspires him — a feeling wonderfully
absent from the generaUty of his class.

Other characteristics are shared by him with the Irish
romantic writers. One characteristic was common to both
of them : there was life in what they wrote ; the scene of
their narrative became a veritable Tir ua mheo. They
possessed, moreover, that sensibility to natural beauty,
which is often, but most erroneously, assumed to be the
peculiar property of modern times. They were keenly
alive to the amenities of woods and meadows, flowers and
birds, to the charm of colour, of brightness and light of
every kind. Above all, they delighted in melodious sound,
whether the music of strings or of the human voice, the
note of birds and bees, the wind in the leaves, or the
sound of falhng water. Like Byron, they knew that
'there's music in all things, if men had ears.' Nor did
this delight in Nature consist in sensuous pleasure merely.
They too were aware of ' a something yet more deeply
interfused ' ; it was ' the light of setting suns ' across the
ocean that wooed the Ui Corra to their quest of the
Unknown ; St. Brendan yearned for that retreat, ' secret,
hidden, secure, delighlfui, apart from men,' which the
ocean solitudes alone appeared to promise him.

This national susceptibility to beauty constantly asserts

248 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

itself in our author, in manner appropriate to his theme.
He also manifests the no less national capacity for vivid
and picturesque description, and this without b»ng led
into redundancy, or straining after effect, the leading charac-
teristic of his narrative bdng a simple earnestness which
is often very effective. It is needless to dwell upon in-
dividual descriptions, most of which have been dealt with
in their place. It is enough jtist to refer in particular to
the description of Heaven, of the Throne, and the celestial
choirs; thenalve but striking symbol ofOmnipresence; the
waste and desolate places of Hell in c. 30; the various
kinds of penalties in cc. 25-29 ; the picture of the generous
but carnally minded souls protected from the fiery sea
by a rampart of the alms they had bestowed.

In two respects our author differs both from Dante and
from several writers of his own school. His work contains
no dissertations upon theology, morals, nor natural science ;
neither does he hold intercourse in the world of spirits
with his own contemporaries, or with historical or mythical
personages ; hence we do not find in it even an anticipation
of the dramatic episodes, or the endless procession of life-
like characters which render the Commedta a veritable
microcosm. We are tempted to speculate upon the results
which might have been obtained, had our author brought
to the treatment of his subject the dramatic force, the
vivid portraiture, and the narrative power, which are
displayed in the great romantic cycles of Irish story.

Soon after the time when our author wrote, the develop-
ment of the national literature, and, indeed, all other forms
of national development, were brought, by pressure of
circumstances, to a stand. Often since then the subjects
and characters of Irish tradition have furnished themes for

CONCLUSION

249

masterpieces of European literature, but these intellectual
triumphs have been tike Ihe victories which Irish amis
have won for others, and under banners not their own.
It is only in our own day that any serious and well-
directed attempt has been made to resume the interrupted
work upon truly national lines. Even within the last few
years the results obtained, and the promise shown, warrant
a belief that success may prove more speedy and com-
plete than could have been deemed possible a single
decade ago ; and with success may come — who knows ?—
an infusion into modern literature of a new spirit and
new methods, of which it stands so grievously in need.

KqXuI' yip TO aOKoV, Kal ■q iA;ris peyaAi;.

11 cfifoc Ann)'o, bui&et^c<^y le 6iA-

r.

ABF-RSETUE, 36, 194.
Acallani aa Senoracli, 187.
Accadlan survivals in Assyrian

mythology, 69.
Acbiemenian elements

Achilles in Leuke, 143.

Achttaiin, 149.

Adam, legend of death of , B4, gr.

Book of, ao3 b. ; Book of Adam

and Eve, 114.

llDoage, 7; anecdote of

design,i7S jjj. ; compi
acter. 176 sgg. ; lileiary 1
acteristics. 174-6, i85, 346-8 ;
ecclesiastical proclivities, 183-4;
Purgatorial theory, 193-4 ; coin-
cidences with Oriental eschalo-
logy, 83 iw., go, 193 ; compared
with Daniels Commtdia. [81, i8j,
1S7, iSe n., i8g, 193 R., 194-S,
200-4; relaiion to Dante, 243-6;
cited, 3, aa, 961.., 133, 144, 15a,
171. 17a, 174, an, ata. ai8 «..
330, 331, SJ13-,

Bridge episode, 13a.

I5. 16. '7;
Ri Finnachta

I tribute,
with Ard-

]i]da?us, 79 M.
Ailill, 13a.

i3iff. i emandpn
. i8jf;.,45; death,

10, 2a-3 ; character, 9. ta, 23-4 ;
his learning, 10, 12, 33 ; his Lift
of St. Calm Cille. 10; cited. 157,
166; treatise De Locis Sanctis,

11, IT41 his canons, 13, iB ;
apocrypbal writings, la; the
Cdin Adammdin. iZ sqg., 27.

The Vision of, dale of, 25 ;

MSS. and editions, 37: reasons
of ascription to Adamndn, 25
J??., 45, 177; Translation, 2S
iqq. \ precedents and auihorilies,
28^, io6-7, i8o-t ; contents dis-
cussed, 251;;., 174 j;;.; structural

Aldfrid. Kingof Nortbumbria, 8.
Alexandria, Jewish colony in, 86;

culture mainly Hellenic, 86-8;

contact with Egyptian ideas,

flrgil, 46 ; ii

Hermas. 104 ; in Irish I

135, 143, 144-S.
^mesba Spentas, the, and

Emanations, 78-9.
Vncona, Prof. A.d\/Preci

Danlt, .75 H., 184 H.,

J52 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE J

BuardiMAngelf.ag.se.tSi-s, 191.

Platonic inhuences, 76 /yj. ; earft
Persian elements, 79; Orientd

114: lending souls of dead, 35.

191 (Bnd »eo art, 'Guide'); poriit

in Olherworld, 3$. a^. 153 ; fallen

elements, 81; influence on Hebrew

itnge1i,ao3i*.iiti; angel of death,

thought, 70.

mlilaken, no, in; angel giving

liRlit in l>arndise, 34 ; InHelT, 314.

Anglo-Suxon acholari and miiiion-

AxioohuB, pseudo-Platonic dia-

logue, s8.

aVs".

BAGAtjAS, Bridge myth among

Annals, Irlili. lee under Itelwid ;

the, 13a.

ofUlsler. ciled, 3w.

Bflitan, IS7-

Apnp, KByptian ' EalHt of Iho

Baliy«ha>mon, Mdrdiil of, iB,

D^ad,' 89. 196 n.

Balor, the Fomorian champion,

^ Apocalypse of St. John, see ■ Reve-
lalions'ofSl. Paul.Sl.l'eler,elc.;

Bards, the Irish order, 117 h.

we ' Paul; ■ Peler,' elc.

Battle at the end of the world, ifij.

Apocrypbnl Boakl. Christian,

B&uma Cneisgel, 136. 138.
Bede, VeneraLle, and Adamnin,

abundttnce of, loi 1 Jewish tradi-

tion, in. 97.

9, 10, 13 ; account of St. Fursa's

Apostles. Vision at death of B.V.,

visions, 166 st</. ; of Drihtbelm's

49,107: inParadiso.si, 98, 194-5.

vision. 033.

Apuieiiia, 40.

Acjuinna, Thomas, pupil of Petrus

B<!find, i«.

Beia.:h Dilinn, 8.

fiibernicus, 6»,

Benn Edair, 136.

Arall, 70,

Arch, fiery, wnlary, etc., in legends.

Best, Mr. R. l.,AJvcnlxrfn'/j4rl,

San of CCHH, and Ikt CourUhit

3;,, 15a. 160. 188.

ofDilbchaim.\-ibn.,xy}.

Arcuif. ii.ia,
Ard-Oliam, the 117.
Ard-Ri, the Irish, it6n.

Birds, mystical, 33, 73, 73, 154-5,

163, 189 ; as divine messengers.

73, 73; as culture bringers, 7a;
human souls in, 46, 160, 174 ».,

Ariel, archangel, 36,

Ariosto's enchanted garden*, Olher-

189. 191 : sinelDg the canoDicol

vforld origin of, 18..

hours, 33, 85, 179; ehoirs of. In

Aristophanes on the Othcrworid,
in the frn^i. 59 Jf?- ; on the

Paradise, 31, 157-8, 163, 174,

t8s 189; in island Elysium, .60.

mysteries, ti.

Birr. M6rd4il of, 18.

Armngeddoti, 163 n.

Art mac Cuinn, 133, 136, "iS-p.

Book of the Dead, Egyptian, 89 m.

Boruma Tribute, Inslltulcd, 14;

Art, sacred, and the nicdiEGval

remitted, IS j«ff.; treatises on, 14.
Bran, son of Febal, Voyage of.

leginds, 186, 91! "'

Ascetics, priority of, in Paradise,

laa «., 133 J77-, 146-8, iBp.

39. 198-

Assyrian eschatology, 69. 70, and

BrenninnotBirr, St., 154.

Augustint, St., Vision of Curlna,

Brendan, St., Voyage of, 147 sqq..

no; purgatorial theory, 193;

cited, aoa.

European literature, aoa, 307;
hislsiand, beUefin, aoya.

Aresta, eachalology, 71 sfa.;

Bridge, in legends of the Other-

gorising tendency, 74-5; date

world, 38.9, 71, in, 131, 13a,

\

^B^r INDEX 3S3 j

135, 178, f97-8, 2IS-17. 231, 239 ;

Cicero, SemniarK Scifionis. 64 ;

cognate traditions, r3i-2.

approbation of the mysteries,

Btudin Da Dergii, storj of, cited.

loa.

Clnel Enda. 7.

Brug na Boinne, Elysium in, IS2,

City, celestial, 33, 35, 94.

^ 189,

Classical ideas in mediaeval eschato-

Brunetto Latini, reference to his

I0E7, 227.
Classification of departed spirits,

BrycB, Prof., on the Donation of

.72, 198-9; of penalties In the

1 Constantine, 45 1.

Otherwofld, 40 sqq., 105, 199 sqq.

Buan, mystical haiels of, 140, 155.

Claud ian, cited, 49,

Budge, Dr. VJ . , Book of Ihe Diad,

Clement of Ireland, 6 b,

89 a.

Clovis!i.,i67.

Cockayne element in Irish Elysium,

Burgheaalle, monaslery founded by

122-3, 135. .37. 141. "90 ; transi-
tion to liigbei conceptions, 144,
164-5, 17'. 190-
Colm Cille, St.. 8, 11, i8, 24;

St Fursa, 166,

C'Mti AdamnAin, see ' Adamn4n.'

Caldrsn. magic, 132-3, M'-
Caliilns 11., Pope, and Carolingian

visions of, i56 ; privilege of order.

17; Adnninin, Life of, see

Romances, 147 B.

Commcdij. see ' Dante.'

Carman, poem on Fair of, cited,

Comyn, Michael, Laoi Oisin ar

33, IIS-

dTi^nan-Og. 133-

Carolingian Romances, 146 n.

Conall Gulban, 7.

Concobar, mediiEval Irish king.

origin of. 150; revolving, in

romance of Peredur, 154.

CondlaCoelCen-bach, .49.

Castor and Pollui, 49.

Conn Ced-cathach in Otherworld,

Cernunnos and Bran, 123 a.

I33IW-.I43-

Cethlenn,i35n.

Connla mac Cuinn in Otberworld,

Chaidasa, escbalology of, 69, 70;

126, 133, 143.

Hades, 70: visils thereto, 69;

Constantine, Donation of, 43-

Elysium, 69 ; multitudinous

Cormac, King of Cashel, 221-2.
Cormac mac Airt in Otherworld,

deities. Bi-a; no Rebirtb doc-

trine, 80.

.20, 133. "391??-. 146 «■
Corpre Cundail, 141).
Cuchulainn, in Otherworld, 120,

Charles, Rev. A. H.. ed. of Book of

Enoch, 95 n.

Chastity idea! in Irish Elysium,

127 Iff., 1301 and children of

144. 147-8.

Doel Derraait, 146, 149. 'SO-

Chaucer cilcd, 143.

Curina, Vision of, 110.

ChinvSl Bridge, 71, iia.

Christ's descent into Hades, loi.

£>d Snhi Flaiha Nime. 174.

Christian interpolations in Irish

Dagda, Elysium of the, 121-3, '44.

1 83, 190.

Daire Degamra, 137.

Chthonlan side of Irish myths, lai,

Dante, antiquity of his theme, 1-3 :

139, 130. laS.n-. 136. 138-9-

bis true originality. 3, 341 ; his

design, 67-a, iBi ; Dante and

34. '64, 184.

i

Virgil, 67 : non-classica! sources.

254 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

194-S, 300-4 .

Paul. 330 ; to Ihe Vision of Tua-
dalu, 315-9 ; loSl. Patrick's Pur-
gatoiy, 335, 338 1 representation
oflbeTrimly.iBe.iBSd.; mjrsli-

71 n. 1 on Neo-Plalonic ideas in
the Avesta, 76 sgg.
Dead cast no shadows, 61. 79 ; nor

Dd Dannnn, Sec ' Tuatha T}(:

Delbcbaem, 136, 13S.

Demeler, 49; and see 'Mysteriej.'

Denionax and the Mysltries, loS,

Demons, m slice of. 43, 204 ; opposi-
tion lo the seer's progress, 167-8,
170, ai3, 333. »34, '39-

Derg, Loch, au.

Derr^, Mdrd&itat. iS.

Dicml. 6n., 114, 115.

Dietrich, Prof., on the Greeli mys-
teries, S411.

Dill, Prof., Roman SocUly from
Nen> to Marcui Aurcliut. 75 n.,
9,%m.

Diosysos, in the mysteries, 59 ; in
the Frogt of Aristophanes, 59.

Divinity, the, representalion of, in
Paradiao, 33, 33 ; a* a mystical

Doe I Dermait. cliildren of, and

Cuchulainn, 146, 1411, 150.
D()llinger on (he Donation of Con-

Easteh, time
and SEC ' Pas

' Eaiei 0:
196 «.

celebrating, 9;
scnai Controversy.'
Dead,' Egyptian, B9,

, Irish bishop o( f

Donatus, :

Drihlhelm, Vision of, 233.
Druimcealt, MdrdAil of, iS.
Drunihome, 7.
Dumas /ifr-(, quoted, r.
Dungal, 611.

Ecl^tana. walls of, 33>r.. iS^,
Ecgfrid, King of Northiunbna. 8.
Ecfalia, class of Irish romance, iiS ;

E. Nerai, 13a: E. Ain, 136.
Edward 1. and Lia F&l, 134.
Egypt and the Greek mysteries,

I Greece, 83-9 '■ eschslology, 89.
93; relations to Alexandrian cul-
ture, 87-9 ; culls in the Hellenic
world, 68-91 intercourse with
Irish Church, 113-15.

EHbOTE, Mount, 71, 81.

Elensii, see ' Mysteries.'

Elias in Patadise, 46, II5. 98, 157,
i^, 174, 179, ao5.

Elysium, Greek, 49 n,, 50, jS, 59,
63; Chaldn^n, 69; Avestan, 7s,
85, t:gyptian, 89 ; Irish, 49 n.,
iai-6, laB-g, 135, 137, 138. 140-4,
146 n., 147 ; aristocratic theory
of, 70, 143, sa7.

Emer, 128-9.

End of world aoticipated by eaily
Church, 100- 1.

Enniskillea, derivation of name,

a Paradise, 4S, 85, 98, 157,

cited by St. Jude, ibid. ;
character, 95 ', summary, gs im. ;
purgalonal theory, 194 ; whether
known in Ireland, 193 n. \ com-
pared with Dante, 95 ; died,
183B., 158, 199.

Eochaid Airem, laa, 127.

Eochaid Glas Corpre, 149.

Epicurean school. Influence of, in
first century, 91.

Er, Vision of, 56J??., 59.

Eratosthenes, 88.

Ejenacb, the Irish, 40.

Erigena, see ' Joannes Scolus E.'
Erik Saga, 131.

^^^r INDEX 355 \

f Esdras, Vision of, in O. T. Apocrj-

Friedel, Dr. V, H., joint editor of

1 piia. 97. r8aK..ais-.. ; in N. T.

La fiiioa de Tondalc. six «.

Apocrvpba, 98.

Pursa, St.. 166; Visions of, 167

Etiin, 122, 137.

'??■

Elline,wifeof Mider, 127; E. Taeb-

fada, 143.

Gardner, Prof. P,, on Ihe Greek

mysteries, S3 "•■ 54. 9= «■ I on

FABIAN, Bishop of Eome, 45.

Greek sources of Christian esoha-

Failbhe. Abbolofloaa. a.

tology, 92 II.

Gelasiii, 25.

Ffilire Oengusa, 174, 205 a.

Gilbert, Abbot of Louth, 334.

Giiill, Bridge of, 131.

Fermoy, Book of, ciled, 136 «,,

Gisdubar, 69.

1 >S7 "■

Good and evil, souls of mingled.

Ferry to Hades, 67.

faleof, 39,7a. 85, 112, i9i,2ot-2.

Fidelis, Irish iraveller, 114.

Fiery circles in Paradise. 30, 187 ;

Gorm and Bridge myth, 131.

lakes, tivera, etc, of Olherworld,

Graal legend, parHllels to Irish

36, 37. 96, 13a, 133. 194 ; wall,

legends, ia+ -.., 131, ijo, 154,

43. 153. >87, 194, 20».

156, 184 ->.

Filid, Irish literary order, 117.

Greece, visits to Otherworld, 49 ;

Filippo Argenti. i6g».

Finnachla Fledach, Ard-RI of Ire-

visions of Otherworld, 56 s^f. ;

Greece and Alexandria, S6i;^. ;

land, accession, 14; relations

intercourse with b^ypl, 89 «. ;

with Adamnfin, 13 J??. ; and

philosophic schools under early

Borumtt tribute, 14 sfj. ; men-

Empire, 91 ; influence on early

tioned in connection witb emanci-

Christian eschatology, 92 ■. ;

pation of women, 45 ; death, 17.

Greek learning m IreUnd, 115 ;

Finn cycle, .33.

Greeks in Ireland, Hid. ; traces in

Firghil, Irish bishop of Sahburg,

Irish tales, 151 :and see ' Elysium ■
■ Tartarus," Mysteries,' ■ Hades,'

6n.,iis.

Fis. class or Irish romances, lao ;

'Plato,' 'Plutarch,' 'Aristo

the Christian Fis. 165, 212; fit

phanes.'

Adammtin. etc, see ' Adamndn,'

Gregory 1.. Pope and Saint; vision

etc.; see also under'Vision.'

of Stephen, 110; of a soldier,

Fiwgerald, David, Poplar Talcs of

III 1 of a Sp^ish monk, ira.

Inland. 153 B., 174 «■

Guide to Hades, 182; in B«,i af

Fomorians, the, Chlhonian powers,

.ffflmrA, 9S; in Visum of Esdras.

Food, miracoloiis, is6, 153-6, 208,

195; in Irish legends, lai. 130,

■67, 170, 314; in Continental

Forgall Monach, 130.

Foucart, M. P.. on the Greek mys-

teries, 52-5 ; on the Isis cull,
89 H.

Hades, the Greek, 30; Virgilian,
66; Chaldiean, 70; Christian.

Four Masters, the. cited, 18.

Fravashi, the, 86, 183.

van.

Frederick 11., Emperor, and Fetms

Hiemgils, 333.

Hibernicus, 6 H. -. legend of dis-

Hata-bereiaiti, Mount, 71 n.

Harrowing of Hell legend, loi.

•

256 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE |

Healj. Dr.. Inland's Ancit«f

Imram, class of Irish romance, rso ;

Sctalli and Scholars. 4 n,

adopts Chrislian eschalologv.

HEa»en, described : io tbe Bosk of

146, 157, 164; Christian Imrantl,

Enoch. 96; iD Lhe A'j Adamndin.

147.150; modern Imrama, 31s;

Ipsqtj.. 18319^. ; ID Irish legends,

of Btaa, Maeiddin. tbe Ui Corra,

138, 174, 133, 334 ; as a Chtislian
Church, 34, .64, 184; the Seven

Snedgus and Mac Riagla, St.

Brendan. Tadg Mac Cfin ; see

Heavens, 35, 83, 84, 19a ; and

■ Bran,' etc.

see ■ Paradise."

Indian mythology, parallels in, agn.

Hebrews, see 'Jews.'

Inlemo, see ' Dante.'

Hell, in Ihe Book of Entck. 95-6 ;
Greek ideal in Chrislian, 109;

Iniliation. see ■ Mysteries."

Interpolations, Chrislian, in Iriih

■ Apocalyfsi of Ptiir. 103; Paul.

heroic tales, 145^-
lona. monastery lounded by St.

" iifci St. Gregory, i.a; Fis

Adamndin, 38 ij?., 196 sgq.-.

Calm Cille, 8 ; abbots of, 8 ;

other Irish visions, 158, 170-1,

opposition toAdamrfin's reform.

173-3, aog, aig i??., 333, 335;

10; apocryphal disputes with

Conlinenlal legends. 331, 1*39;

Adarandn, aa.

of OrienUl religions, 3s6 ». ; as

Iceland : Church in seventh century.

mouth of B monster, 315, 3i6,

4; throe ordersof5ainls.4; asceti-

335,239: Norlhem and Southern

cism, 34; tribal organisation, 7.

conception contrasted, aoo n.,

ts; pohtical activity, 6; learning

ao2. 338.

in, s, lis ; connections with Gaul,

Hellenism, in Persia, 76 sqg, ;

113; with the East, 113-js; inter-

Syria, 68 : Egypt, 87-9 ; Jewish

course with Greeks, iij; Oriental

schools, 68, 86-7.

type of monasticism, 114 ; pil-

Hclmeloflri»hArd-R(, 32n., iHB,

grimages lo Egypt, 114; mission-

Henry of Sallrey, 334.
Hcrakles. vbit la Hades, 49.

ary BDtivity, 5; Irish scholars

abroad, 5, 115; Irish monastic

Hermas, Shepherd of, 101 iqq. ;

foundations in foreign countries.

anticipations of Dante, 103, 183 n.

S, 166, 233 «.

Hermits on islands. 154-7, 160. 191,

Social ranks and classes, 116

H. ; position of women, iB sqq.

Herm'odr ^d Bridge myth, 131.

Political constitution. 14,115

Herodotus cited, 33 n„ 87, 88 «.,

n. : the M()rd&il, 18.

151-

The literary class. 116-1B ; the

Hesiod, Elysium. 50 «. : aeons.

annals, authority of, 16, 17.

Romantic literature: clasai-

Hierarchies, nine celestial. 30, 185.

Scation of stories. T18-19; pagan
elements, tig, lao; ethical ideas.

323-4.

Hilarius, Pope, reforms calendar, 9.

144, 14s, 147-8; tolerance of

Homer, Elyaiiun, 50; island Para-

clergy, 119, 309B. ; clerical inter-

dise, lai : Odyisiy cited, 153.

polations, 145-9; transition to

Horse-races of demons, 152.

CbriBtianity, 146-7, 157, 164.5 '
NorsE, 131, rsa '• "O™ classics.

Hull, Miss Eleanor, Ciuhullm

Saga, 130, 131.

Hyde, Dr. Douglas, Literary His-
tory of Ireland. 117 s., 138 n.

151-2; loss of natural beauty.

=47; of music, .24, .39, Mt,
159, 181, 189, 191, 247.
Interrupted developmcait of

lUUANUEL BEN SALAMONE, 341 n.

Island Paradise, 123, 1 _ ,
^57. 159. »6o, i6a-3, 1S4 1.
Imae), see "Jews."

Jews, contaci wiib OrieDtal re-
ligions during CHplivit]', 68. Sa ;
Persian mythology, 70; Hellenic
influences. 68, 86-7 : colonies in
Asia and Aleiandria, 86; Egyp-
tian ideas, 87-9; Rabbinical
legends. 84^ spirilism. Si:
escbatology, 89, go, 191 ; Purga-
torial theories, 90 ; influence on
Christian conceplion of Paradise,
109.

Joannes Scotus Erigena, 6 a., 115.

John of Thessalonica, 107.

Jubiaal, La Ligindi latine de SI.
Brendaints. arrj n.

Jnde, St.. Epistle a(, cited, 71, 94,
99.

Judgment : of individual on di

. it jiidgmen .
Last, 31, 47,721..
of damned for,

Karshipta, mystical bird of

Cl-AtDEK, ia8.
Lagny, monasleiy, founded by St.

Laisr^, St., Vision of, 169 s^q.

Lanigan died, 7 n.

Lawrence, ed. of 5(wiD/'fla«*, 95 ■.

LeanamhAn Sidbe stories, 127, 1 36.

I^ebor Brec, 117,

Leber nn g-Cerl, 117 b.

Lebor na h-Udri, 27, 12a n., 127 n.

Limius injaatiur.

ias fialrum. it-

Lindus, temple

Lolhair, King of Lombards and

Dungal, 6 n.
Lucan cited, 49, 229 n.
Lucian cited, loB, 109, 151.
Lucifer, in Fii Adamndin, 38; in

Vision of Fursa, 167; in Vision

ofTundale, aao,
Lucretius on Tartarus doctrine,

Lying eitcluded fri

:, ddn of, i;

MACBETH, parallel in Conn legend,

Machutus, Si., and whale, 208 a.
Mac CoDglinne. Vision of, 123.
Maelduin's Curach, Voyage of,

lao, 150 sgq.
Magh Bri^, 8 ; M. Mell, 15a, 183,

187, 189 ; M. Mon, 125 ; M. U6t,

122, 148 n. : M. R^in. 124.
Matachi, St., 25.
Malignant powers in Irish myth,

129, 130.
Malo, St., see ' Machutus.'
Manannin mac L(r, lai, 123, laS.

143, 146, 147, 156 ; convened

into the Devil, 208.
Mangan, J. C, quoted, 148 h.

2S8 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE J

Marcui. author of l^iiien of T«n-

Musical cords to SL Peter's vessel.

da.U. 3.1, aas-

39,

Marianus Scolus, 6 «.

Musical stones, 3,. laj, 181, 187.

Martyrs, precedence of, in Paradise,

Mysteries, Greek, 51 sqq. ; origin, ja-

39, ,88.

3 :Kleusinian,5..a, 54-6; Orphic

Mary, B, V., Vision at death of.

Pythagorean, 53-4 ; orgiastic,

9, I07, i8i ; 'n Paradise, 31. 185.

5S : connected with Demeler, 5a;

Median conquests, effects of, 70.

Dionysos, 5?; Pythagoras, ja-S :
benefits of fnitiation, ja, s8-6o ;

from, 151.

moral leaching, 51-3,54-6; doc-

Mercy, leaning of Irish divines

trine of future life, ci sag. ; of

towards, aoi-a.

rebirth, 54; survival of, loe.

Meru, Mount, 81.

Metempsychosis, see • Rebirth."

Nature, Irish love of, 158-9. 347,

Meyer. Prof. Kuno, ed. of the Cdin

Neid. 136 n. a -* •^z

Adamniin. 18: of the Voyagtof

Neo-PIatonism and the East. 76

Bran. Son o/Ftbal. Jtgn.. ixin..
133 1. ; o( the Teckmarc Emtre.

sqg, ; in interpretation of Greek

myths, 51.

130 R. : of the Eekira Ntrai,

Nera, advenljires of, 13a.
Niam Cinn Oir. .33.

13a «. : of the B«U Mangdiii.

T40 n. : of the Viiinn of Lauren.

Nicodemus, gospel of, 97, lor.

i6g ; of £fl Viiian dt TondaU,

Norse, possible Irish loans from.

aia n. ; of the Vision of Mac

131. IS"-

Conglinni. 11311.

North, region of evil powers, 200.

Michael, Archangel, 35, 95, iBa.

195, ajo.

Ireland, 333 «.

Mider, Irish god, 121, laa, 133,

Numenius, 77.

■as, 148 n.

NutI, Mr. Alfred, Bsmy oh Ihe

Miller, Demon, 153-3, iSa.

Irish Viiim tftlu Happy Olhir-

Milton cited, 1730., aoi. 303, 304.

worldandthi Celtic Doctrine of

Milhra cult in Roman Empire.

Rebirth. 4911., 9311., 11911.,

75"-

133"., r33«„ 131 »„ 150, isj.

Moling. St., and Boruma tribute.

i6aH., 173s.; Studies on tie

14. 'S-

Legindoftlu Holy Grail, 134 «.,

Mongin, MO"-, i47«-.i33'

13111., iso«., 1560. ; on the
Greek and Irish Elylimn, 49 ». ;

Moore, Thomas, quoted. 159 n.

Moran, Dr., Acta Samli Brendani,

on the Grsek mysteries, 531..,

59™. ; on the Greek sources of

Mdrddil of Ireland, iS; Adamn^

Christian eschalology. 931. ; on

the Phoenix legend, 155; on Ihe
dale of the voyage of Snedgus

Morgan, 136, 138.

Mosis, contest' between Michael

and Mac Rfagia, 162 n. ; 5 n..

and Satan for, 71,

aa.

Muirgheas mac Piidin ui Maol-

chonaire, translator of Viiio

Oath of Irish Kingb, 31.

Tuadali, a 13 n.

O'Curry, mnntrs and Custom] ef
tie AfuitHt Irish. 117 n.. iaa«. ;

Muodos of Latin towns, i5i n.

MS. Materials of Irish Hislory,

mUSc. 'Irish susceptibility to, 1=4.

139. 14'. '59. '8'. 1B9. >9'. =47-

O'Donnells, the, of Tfr Conaill. y.

O'Donoghue, Rev. Denis, Brtn-

Oengus (5g, lai, laa.

O'Flaherty, Ogygia. 14.

O' Grady, Dr. Standish Hayes,
Siha GttdtHca. 14, ij. sian,

O'Hanlon.Very Rev. Canon, £iw!o/
Iht Irish Saints, nn., i4,iS,i6&)i.

Oisln, 133.

Orphpus, 49, and see ■ Mysteries ' ;
Orpheus myth ID Ireland, isy.

Otherworld, visits lo, in Greek
myths, 49; Chaldsca, 69: in
Irish traditions, lai. 133; Connla,
136; Ciichulainn, 197 1;;. : Conn,
J34JJJ. ; Art. 13815'?. ; Cormac,
'39'??- ;andsee 'Vision, ''Imram.'

Descriptions, Chaldean, 6g,

70, 193: Avcstan,7i JOff.; Greek,
49 jf?.: in Boai ol Enoch, 96;

^33-5' '37-44' and see 'Elysium,'
■Paradise,' 'Hell,' ' Heaven,' 'Pur-

Orthodox character of the

ecclesiastical legen "

Chur

□ the Westerr

Owen, Vision of, 334 sqq, * Dante

parallels, 335.
Ozacam, DanU et la Pkilesophit

calholigiu, asgn.

Paradise, Hebrew Ideas in Chris-
tian, 109; described in Book of
EnocA, 96; risiono/£idrai. 98;
Saitlalion. too a.; Apocatyfit of
Peter, 105; by St. Gregory, iii ;
va Fis Adamndix, 39, 30 ; in the
Irish legendary, ijy, zai, 233 ;
Paradise of Birds, 3Ti; Terrestrial
Paradise in Irish IcEendi, 153-4,
163-3, aio, 336 : and see 'Elysium,'

EX 259

pagan prophecy of hi; coming,
135 ; hymn of, 31.

Patrick's Purgatory, St.. lao, 225,
334 'S9' : closed. 237 ; doubtful
origin, 936 ; popularity of legend,
a34, 337; influence on European
literature, 237 ; Dante parallels,
335' 238.

Paul, St., Vision of, 39, 99; Revela-
tion of, 106, 181 ; mediiieval
vision of, aoa H., syssqq, ; author-
ity for Purgatory, 192 n. ; guide
(0 the Othervi-orld, 1S2 b.

Pavia, University founded by Dun-
gal. 6 «.

Perceval (Petedur) romances, par-
allels to Irish legends, 131, 150,
154, 'S6, 1B4 Ti.

Persian eschalology, see " Avesta.'

Peler, St.. Vision of. 38. 181 ; on
purification of the world by lire,
p9 ; Apocalypse of, 105 ; author-
ity for Purgatory, rga; guide lo
the Otberworid, iBa n.

Peter, Spanish monk. Vision of, iii.

Petrus Hibsmicus, 6 n.

Philip, Roman Emperor, 45. 46 n.

Pbilo Judxus, 76 tgg.

Phcenix legend, 85, 154-5, 189.

Pillar on enchanted island, 151,

160, 310.

Pindar on Elysium, 50 n. ; cited.

the

56; Vision of Er, ^6 iqq.,
eschatology of, 57-8 : on
mysteries, 58 ; rebirth, 57-8.
Plutarch, Vision of Thespesios, 60
igq.. Ill, 118 n,, 333 n. ; escha-
tology of, 61 sgq. : Ibe mysteries,
1081 Tartarus, 109; early Neo-
Platonisi, 77; OalsiiandOsirii,
88.

26o AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

PiiniahmeDls in Olhetwotld. sec
■Hell," 'Tartarua'; Purgworial,
see ■ Purgatory ' ; temporiuy, 35,
39, 40, 41, 49. aoi-a; classlticd,
40 iqq.. los, 171, 174, 199 sqg.,
131 ; respited periodically. 43,

Purgatory: idea m Plalo, 57; in
Pluinrch, 61-4 ; theories of the
Rabbis, 90. 193-4 ; in Book of
Enoch, 194; devclopmenl in the
early Chutcb, 192-4 ; in the Fis
Adamniin, 36, 178-9, 193-4; ■"
Irish legends, 160, 915 sag,. 335,
327. 333, 335 ; in the Vtsion of
Atbtric. 039; Si. Patrick's, see
' Piirick's Purgatory, St.'

Pythagoras and the mysteries, 53-3.

Rabbis, see 'Jews.'

RagoziD, M.de,CJa/ffsa,d1ed,69H.:

Media cited, 71 n .
Ramsay, Sir W. M., on the Greek

mysteriea, 55-6.
Rapboe, Mdrdili at, iB.
Rebirth docLrine, in Plato, 54, 57-8 ;

Plutarch, 62, 64; Virgil, G5;

rejected by the Persians. Bo;

Chaldfeans, ib. ; Egyptians, 93 ;

Jews. 93-3.
Reeves, Bishop, ed. Adamnin's

Lifi of SI. Columha, 4 n. ; cited,

7'"-. "■
Renouf, M. Le Page, on the

Egyptian theory of the future

hfe, 89«.,93.
Respite, periodical, or the damned,

Relurnmyth of departed heroes, 163.

Revelation, Book of, 85, 98 n., 99,
100 «., 163 n., 183. 1B4, 190 n.,
19s, igS, =05.

Rhapsodical description of Para-
dise, 43, 73, 174, 305-6, aio.

Rhys, Professor, on Bran, 133 x.

Rivera of Hell, 43, 151 ; four, 43,

Konal, 7, 90.

Ross, men of. 163-3, >9''

Ruadau. Si.. iS, 34.

Sabbatarianism in early Irish

Church, 161.
Saints, Laud of, in Fis AdamnitH,

30 ; three orders of Irish, see

Saltair tia Rann cited, 114.
iamoan ten Heavens, B3.
iatan, in Fis AdamnAiH. 38 ; in

Vision of Fursa, 167 ; in Vision of

Tundale, 330; in Voyage of St.

Brendan, 308.
Sayce, Proressor, on Chaldsean

escliatology, 70 n., 72 n., 8a.
Scathach. r^m of, 130.
SeSI 1^ Britha, 171, 305 n.
Schrijder, Sanct Brandan, 307 n.
Scone, stone of, 134.
Sedulius, 6 n.

Segda Saerlabrad, 137-8, 144-5.
Segine, Abbot of lona, 8.
Seueca on Tartams doctrine, 109.
Seppelll, Signor, trans. Immanuel

ben Salamone, 342 n.

Strglige 'Conchulaind. 137 iqg.

Selh, journey to Paradise, B4, 97.

Seven, favourite myslic number. 83 ;
Heavens, 35, 83, 84, 19a; walls
of Celestial City, 33. 185; of
Ecbatana. 33 ; Hells of Rabbis,
9°i <93; Chaldsean Spirits of
Earth, 70, Si; Persian Magni-
ficent Deities, Bi ; Amesha
Spentas, 78. Si ; Philonic eman-

Shakespeare' cited, 201.

Shammai. school of, 90, 194.

Sheol, 96, 191.

Shepherd of Hermas, see ' Hermas. '

Sibylline books, loi.

Sibyls, medium of revelation, 67, 104.

Silvester, Pope, 45.

Sinbadj 151, 208 n.

^^^^^^^^ INDEX 261 ^

SUabh Daidche, ao8.

TertuUian, precedence awarded 10

Snedgus and Mac Rfagla, 147.

Tethra, god of Irish Undenforld,

Soldier, si. Gregory's vision of a.

131, 126, 143.

Theophilus, Sergius, and Hyginus,

Soleus, see ' Thespesios. '

voyage of, 184 n.

5™>H-«m Stifiionis, 64, 229 «■

Theseus, 49.

SoiTows, two, of Heaven, 46, 174,

ThBspesios, Vision of, 60 sqq.

205.

Throne of Deity. 31. g6, 158, 183

Stephen, Vision of, no.

sqq, ; parallels in myths of

Stoics and early Empire, 91 ; de-

Chaldas, 70; Ireland, laa, 137.

struction of world by fire, 91 n.

.83.

Stones, vocal and musical, 31, 125,

Tigemachciled,7».,i8. .

13s, 181, 187-8.

Timotheus of Alexandria, 88.

Stokes, Dr. G. T., Ireland aid Iht

Tinne. 7, ag-

Celtic CisrcA, 114 b.. Its-

T(r Aedha, 7 «,

— Dr. Whitley, editor of Fis

T(rnan-c^, 133, 136; TirTaimgire,

AdaBlndin, 25, 32 n.. 35 »., 40 "■ .

123 sgq., 126, .36, 139, 141, 14s,

.44, 148. 2.0.

196 n. ; on date of, 25 : Saltair

Tonsure. Irish, 9.

«a Eann, 114 71. ■ Advenluns of

Tdrach, cook of, 155.

Cormac. 139 n. ; The Irish

Tradition, historical value of Irish,

Ordeals, etc., lao n. ; Village of

16, .7.

Transits Mana, 107.

Voyagi of tlu So»i of Ua Carra.

TreeofLife.46, 70.75. 84.96,^8.

137 n. ; /tnrum Snidgkuia agus
Mic Riagla. 16a «. ; A Middle

'S7. '63. 174. 179. '84. "89, t9oa,.

224 ; parallels in Irish myth, 124,

Irish Htmily. 173 ». ; Latin life

128, 134, 137, r4D, 154-5, 19°-

ofSl. Brendan, 207 n.,aioii.

Tree, public, in Ireland, 134 ; in the

Sunday respite of the damned, 43i

Italian republics, 135 n.

160, 161, 231.

Trinity, the, in mediasval visions,

Swallowing of guiUy by demons.

.88; in Irish visions, 37. 167.

3B. 39. Be. '95-6, 198, 2.6, 2.B,

188. 1

Trionfo del Vaglio, II, cited, .53.

Syr?a,' Heillni's'm m, 68; Jewish

Tuatha DS Danann, 122, 126, .27,

colonies. B6 ; and Irish Church,

129, 134, 136. 183 n.

"3-iS'

Tuathal Techlmor. 14.

Tundale, Vision of, aia sqg. ; in-

Tadg mac Ctm, adventures of.

fluence on foreign literature, aa4 :

.20, i4a«., 212 «.

compared wjlh Fis Adamndia,

T4in Bo Aingen. 132.

225 : with Dante, 225-9. 1

Tara, Synod of, 18 ; abandonment

of, ih.
Tartarus, in Plato, 57; Aristo-

Turpin, Archbishop, 146 a.

Ua Cobba, Voyage of the sons of.

phanes, 59 1 Plularcti , fia ; Virgil,

I20, 147, \n sijq., 183.

65-6 r under Roman Empire, 109 ;

Ui Niiill, the, IS.

none in Pagan Ireland, 129 ;

Vara of Yima, 72, 73, 85, 144.

liindred cooceplions, 129, 130,

139.

Deluge tradition, 7E b.

262 AN IRISH PRECURSOR OF DANTE

VaninaandTelhra, m «.

Veil before the TTirone, 30. 1B7 :
over mysticnl islands, 15a, 160,
187, aiD.

Vendldfld cited, 71 "-. 7= "-■ 73 «-.
74.76"-. 79"-. 80.

Victor, St. Patrick's angel, i8a a.

Wrgil and the vision of Ihe Olber-
world, 4S. 64 sgq. ; descriptioDs,
65 lyq. ; follows recdved author-
ities, 65 ; agreement "' '

t of \

, 66;

. 66;

ed 35 prophet hy llie Church.

influence oo developniEnt

he legend, 1*. ; 011 Dante, ii. ;

d, 15a, 173 n., 194, ao3 n.,

Vision of Otherworld. '

diffu-

Greece, 56 sg^. , 60 sgq, ; Rome,
4S, 64 sqg. ; lines of develop-
ment, 3, 48 ; popularity with
post-capUvitr Jews, 94 ; in early
'ft.. — t gH j^^_ . survival in
'-■k-lales, etc.,111,114;

Church,

116 ; Irish vis

their influent
ture, 224. 942 ., .
243-S ; tendency to increase in
horror, 235-6; popularity in later
Middle Ages, 339, 340: dimin-
ished importance and increased
number, 339 sqq.

Visions of Adamn&n, Er. I'hes-
pesios, Enoch, Elsdras, Apostles,
Hermas, St. Peler, St. Paul, Si.
Cohn Cille, St. Fursa. St. Lais-
tin, Tundale, Drihlheltn, Owoi,
Alberic, see 'AdamnSn,' etc.

Vohu Mano and Neo-Platonic
Logos, 78 B.

Wagnek, a., editor of Vision of

i of Life
abode ol

2dB.

ir of Fis

Wan

Wesi

Whali

Windiseh, Profess

Adamndin. 27, 34 n. , 47 n. ; date
of F. A.. 2S; ed. Sergligi Cim-
chulaitd, 127 PI.

Women, status of, in Ireland. 19;
militaiy service, i8-ao ; eman-
cipation, iS, ao-33 ; liability for

Worid-Sea, 7a, 85.

Wright, Si. Patrick's Purgatorf,

sxgn.
Yaha, fndian god of dead, 29 n.,

74. "I-
Yehl, divine bird of Thiinkeets,

73 «■
Yimi, Persian god of dead, 72 sgg.,

85, 121.

ZIMMEB, Professor, on dale of the
Voyage of Maelduin's Curach,
ISO. IS7 B.

Zu, Babylonian culture-biid, 73 n.

l>rinltd hy T. and A. CoH

il the EdiDburth Unlveriily Pi

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